Getting It Right
by TXWitchywoman
Summary: Need a good Harry/Hermione story? Then look no further! Tale resulting from a challenge prompt about a pair who finally realize what they mean to each other....
1. Chapter 1

**September 15, 2009  
Library, 12 Grimmauld Place**

He looked at the party invitation again and sipped from his glass of Firewhiskey. Of course he would go, it was Hermione's birthday, but the thought of seeing all of his ex-girlfriends made him think twice. It couldn't be helped; his ex-girlfriends were everywhere it seemed. The circle of friends and acquaintances from Hogwarts were still the ones he had to this day at the age of 29. However, none of these friends and acquaintances over the years had yielded a serious relationship of the female kind.

He was an Auror; an honorable, respected profession and the Head Auror at that. He cringed at his celebrated "savior-of-their-world" status and seriously questioned the accuracy of the "one of the most powerful wizards since Albus Dumbledore" line he once saw in the newspaper. However, he was able to acknowledge to himself that he was basically an all-around good bloke.

Women threw themselves at him on a regular basis. While most young men would welcome this, Harry knew it was because of his status, but not necessarily _him._ Sure, the ones he went to Hogwarts with knew him, but they still saw him as "the boy-who-lived" and celebrity savior of their world. Molly, Ginny (his first ex-girlfriend, but still a close friend), Luna, Hannah Longbottom, Mrs. Granger, his secretary Hannah, and Hermione; they were the women in his life who knew him above all others and truly cared for him.

They knew the real Harry, orphaned as a baby and left with abusive relatives who weren't worth the air they breathed. They knew the Harry who hated his perpetually messy hair that seemed resistant to all efforts, magical and otherwise, to tame. They knew the Harry who gave hundreds of thousands of galleons and dollars (anonymously) to orphanages around the UK so that no child in an orphanage would ever do without. They knew the Harry that hated publicity and attention but was plagued by it. They knew the Harry that was prone to fits of anger and said mean things to those closest to him, yet they always forgave him. Yes, they knew and loved him and he was grateful for it. His thoughts drifted back to the party invitation in his hand. The worst part would be seeing Hermione with her wizard, Trace Harrington the Third.

_What a wanky name!_ he thought.

When Hermione transferred to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement a year prior, she and Trace hit it off mere minutes after meeting each other. After just a few dates, they seemed joined at the hip, and Harry only felt more awkward, bumbling and all-around stupid around her. It wasn't her fault that she grew more beautiful, powerful, and confident over the years, while it seemed he stayed the same. In his eyes, she was clearly out of his league. He hoped that Trace-of-the-wanky-name realized what a treasure he had in Hermione and treated her as she deserved.

**

**Same night, Hermione Granger's flat, London**

Hermione sat on her bed and sipped from her glass of wine, sorely needed after another trying day of work.

"Gin, I'm not sure I even want to go," she complained.

Ginny Hopkins, née Weasley, rifled through Hermione's wardrobe, helping her find a nice dress for her birthday party. Of course Hermione knew every piece of clothing she owned, but Ginny was sure there was something special in the wardrobe that her friend perhaps forgot about.

"Hermione, the pub is rented, the invitations are sent, and it's your party, of course you have to go," Ginny said in a long-suffering voice. "Wayne went through a lot of trouble to rent out The Galloping Gryffin, on a Friday night no less. Stop whinging."

"I'll be sure to thank him," Hermione said and tossed back the remainder of her drink. "I'm getting a refill, want some?"

Ginny looked at her pointedly and pointed to her stomach, five months along in pregnancy with baby number three.

"Right, I keep forgetting," Hermione said and left the bedroom.

"You're not going off on another spinster rant, are you?" Ginny called out. "You're only going to be 30!"

In the kitchen, she yanked the cork from the wine bottle and poured another glass. She dearly loved her pregnant best friend, but she was cross-eyed with envy! Ginny, and practically every woman she knew, was married, married with children, pregnant, or trying to get pregnant. Ginny married Wayne Hopkins (of house Hufflepuff) three years after leaving Hogwarts and was now pregnant with baby number three. Hannah Longbottom was pregnant with Neville's and her first.

The clerk at the movie rental shop down the street was pregnant.

The bakery assistant at Tesco was pregnant.

She was even sure that the next-door neighbor's cat was carrying kittens.

_Is there something in the water?_

No, just a baby boom after a war, similar to what happens in the Muggle world after a war, her father offered in explanation.

_Even my own mother!_

A complete and utter surprise to the Grangers, and at great risk to her health at 51, Mrs. Granger gave birth to Hermione's sister, Evelyn, last year. Her parents celebrated their 30th anniversary a week after Evelyn's birth. Who next? Molly Weasley? She snorted at the thought. Arthur would hang himself.

She saw a pair of Trace's shoes under the sofa, swirled the wine in her glass and again lost herself in thought. After meeting Trace when she came to work with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she was almost certain that he was 'The One.' Smart, driven and confident as she was, he asked her to dinner her second day at work. Since then, they were inseparable. The relationship was wonderful the first six months. She loved the companionship: someone to have lunch with, someone to hold hands with at the cinema who shared her love of all things Star Trek, someone who was there in the middle of the night when she had a nightmare. She had a great job, a great boyfriend, and great friends. Even her cat was great. Life was good.

**September 18, 2009  
8:30 a.m.**

Hermione arrived at the Ministry of Magic; somewhere she never thought she would work. She lost complete faith in the Ministry during her fifth year at Hogwarts and the repugnance lasted until Kingsley was elected Minister for Magic after the war. He instituted dramatic changes just days after the war that played a large part in re-establishing the people's trust in the Ministry. Harry's endorsement of Kingsley helped too.

She enjoyed her growing career as a Advocate in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The work was challenging and she felt she was making a real difference in the world. She worked mainly as a Prosecutor, and occasionally took cases for her prior employer, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She saw Harry almost every day, because he had to present evidence and testimony from those arrested by Aurors; in return, she had to brief Harry about the legal proceedings of the inmates.

This morning, she deposited her briefcase on her desk and went to Trace's office. Upon arrival at his office, she was greeted with the curious sight of an empty office. She went to the Department supervisor's office and stood outside the open office door until he asked her inside.

"Come in and have a seat, I'll be through with this in a minute," he said and continued a letter.

She sat in the chair in front of his desk and glanced around the office, adorned with pictures of his wife, kids, and Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch team paraphernalia. He finished the letter and placed it in the outgoing box on his desk.

"Good morning. Tea?" he asked, gesturing at the small table in the corner.

"No thank you, I was wondering if Trace--" she asked and paused when he held up his hand.

"Mr. Harrington resigned his position late yesterday afternoon," he said.

Hermione was speechless. He continued.

"By owl, no less. I would have preferred a face-to-face resignation, but that's neither here nor there," he said. "I can see by the look on your face that this is an unexpected development."

She nodded wordlessly. He knew of their relationship and disliked that she had to be blindsided this way. A witch like her deserved better than this.

"I know that the two of you were working on the Archer case, so I've petitioned the Wizengamot to delay his hearing. There's no way I expect you to prepare for a case of this magnitude by yourself," he said kindly.

"Thank you sir," she replied softly.

"Are you alright? I know this is a shock, but if you need some time--"

She shook her head. "No sir, I really need to continue my work with the Archer case. I'll be fine."

"That's the spirit. And don't worry, I'll find someone to work the Archer case with you."

At lunchtime in the department canteen, Harry looked for Hermione. It was unusual for her not to make an appearance at lunchtime, even if just to grab an apple or a cup of her favorite Chai tea. His wand vibrated, signaling that he was being paged. He took his sandwich and Coke and left the canteen. At the Auror division, he saw Aurors hurriedly milling about, Kingsley talking to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and two healers speaking to the Auror-on-watch in charge of the holding cells. He went to the head of the department.

"What happened, chief?" Harry asked.

"One of apprehensions committed suicide," was the answer.

"With someone on watch?" Harry asked and ran his hand through his hair. "Which one?"

"Nott."

Harry turned on his heel, swore, and kicked a rubbish can. The entire office froze when the soda can in his hand exploded.

"Bugger," he mumbled.

Hermione didn't think things could get any worse until she went home. She first noticed that the living room looked different. Things were missing, Trace's things. She went to every room and saw that every trace of Trace was gone from the flat.

_Every trace of Trace? Not funny!_

She went back to the dining room and saw a vase of flowers on the dining table with a note attached.

_**Hermione,**_

I regret that things turned out this way. I thought that making a clean break of things would be easier on you. I will always think fondly of you and the time we shared. I wish you only the best in the future.

Trace

Wordlessly, she sank to a chair. _Is this really happening to me? Stuff like this only happens in the cinema, right? It doesn't really happen!_

And just like that, she was alone again and she had no idea why. She sat at the table in a daze, forgetting dinner or anything else. She heard the telephone ring but she had no will to stand and answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**September 19, 2009**

She woke to the annoying blare of the alarm clock, knocking it to the floor, hearing bits and pieces of the clock scatter about. She left the bed and looked in the mirror.

"Happy sodding birthday," she said to her reflection and left the bedroom.

After her shower, she had her usual breakfast of scones and tea. From the kitchen, she saw the flat devoid of Trace's things and sighed.

_Alone again._

She was startled by the telephone and answered it.

_"Sweetie? Happy birthday!"_

"Hi, mum."

_"I called last night, but I figured you were out with Trace."_

"Um....no."

_"Is something wrong? Are you crying?"_

"No, mum, I have to go to work."

_"Today?"_

"Believe me, mum, I really need to work, notwithstanding my dodgy birthday. It'll help take my mind off...things."

_"Why are you sniffling? You are crying, what's happened?"_

She choked back a sob. "Tr-Trace left."

_"Left? When will he be back?"_

"You don't understand; he left me. He resigned from his position at work and when I got home, I found a note and all his things were gone."

Her mother sputtered. _"When?"_

"Yesterday."

_"Why? I thought things were going so well between the two of you!"_

Hermione wiped her eyes and sniffed again. "I have no idea why he's left, no idea at all. The last time I even saw him was three days ago, and things were fine, or so I thought. He didn't even resign in person, and he got all his stuff from here while I was at work. He left a note on a vase of flowers, can you believe it?"

_"Are you sure you don't want me to come over? Or better yet, why don't you take some time and come here?"_

"Really, mum, he left the department in kind of a lurch, I have a lot of work to do."

_"Oh dear, your friends are throwing you a party tonight, aren't they?"_

"Believe me, it's the last thing I feel like doing. All I'll be seeing is happy couples. I'll just muddle through, lots of spirits should help."

Her mum snorted softly. _"You can't just decline?"_

"If only it were that easy. They've managed to rent an entire pub for the night and dozens of invitations have been sent."

_"I'm sure everyone would understand if you didn't go."_

"I've never been a coward and I don't intend to start now. They've gone through a lot of trouble. Maybe being around all my friends is what I need."

_"Okay, sweetie, but I will be stopping by tomorrow with birthday presents and I'll take you out to lunch. How does that sound? I know this isn't an easy day for you, but you are my baby who's having a birthday, so happy birthday. Just remember how many people love you."_

"Thanks, mum, you always know what to say. I'll see you tomorrow."

_"Take care, I love you."_

"Love you too, mum, bye."

After work, Hermione decided to start the party early. She quickly downed a glass of wine after throwing off her work clothes. She looked through her wardrobe and scoffed. Her cat, Crooks the Second, came into the bedroom. She spoke to the cat.

"You know what? It's my sodding birthday party, innit? I'll wear what I want!" she said and saluted the cat with her wine glass.

After she dressed, she grabbed her purse, the wine bottle, and the vase of flowers and left her flat. She Apparated to Trace's flat and saw that no one was home. She took a swig of wine, nodded at a man that passed, and left the vase on the patio of the flat.

At _The Galloping Gryffin,_ Harry looked at his watch again.

"Don't worry, she'll be here," Ginny said and refreshed the cooling charm on the bottles of Butterbeer on the table.

The door to the pub opened and Hermione stepped inside. She lifted a wine bottle and greeted everyone.

"Oh God," Harry said. "It looks like she's already started."

She looked disheveled in her **"Save A Broom-Ride A Wizard"** t-shirt, old, faded jeans and trainers. She flung off a red cable-knit sweater and asked where her cake was.

"I'll need a fire extinguisher to put out all the candles!" she declared.

Partygoers came forward to greet her and lead her to a present-laden table. She took another swig of wine.

"What's wrong with her?" Ginny asked softly, noting her unfocused, not-quite-happy eyes, and completely fake smile.

"We'll know soon enough," Harry said.

"Where's Trace?" Luna asked.

By the end of the party, Hermione had finished off her bottle of wine and had switched to something stronger. The last of the partygoers gave her final birthday wishes and left the pub. Hermione's fake tiara sat crooked on her head as she settled at the bar. She poured a shot of Firewhiskey and tossed it back. Harry, Ginny, Wayne, and Luna were concerned at the morose manner in which she threw back a second shot. They sat beside her and she peered at the shot glass.

"Did you know this stuff is like dreamless sleep potion?" she asked and made to pour another shot.

Harry put his hand on the bottle to stop her. She scoffed.

"Get your bloody hand off my bottle, Potter," she hissed.

"What's wrong? If this is about--" he started.

"About what? Celebrating my thirty pathetic years on this Earth?" she said and slid off the stool. "Where's my wine?" she asked and turned to the table.

"Where's Trace?" Luna asked.

Hermione froze and gripped a chair. "I don't know," she said, her back to them.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Harry asked.

Hermione turned back around, wavering, her eyes anguished and angry. "What I mean is that I don't know where he is! He left me yesterday!" she shrieked. "The tosser left a note on a vase of flowers!"

She found her wine bottle and up-ended it, frowning when nothing came out. She summoned the Firewhiskey by Harry's hand and took a generous swig before they could get to her. She put her hand over her heart and spoke dramatically.

"I will always think fondly of you and the time we shared," she sang, recalling the words from the note. She took another swig of whiskey, belched, and looked at her four dumbfounded friends. "That's what the note said, he'll think fondly of me. Well, bully for him. I'd rather not think of him at all!" she declared and brought the bottle to her lips.

Harry stepped forward and reached for the bottle. Hermione shook her head, stepped back and tripped over a chair. The bottle went one way, she another and she landed hard on her bum. She kicked the chair that tripped her and drew her knees to her chest. Their hearts went out to her when the tears started flowing.

"I just want to forget. Forget all we had, it's too hard to have it in here," she said, poking herself in the head. "Here I am, 30, and all I have is my cat."

She grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled the startled woman close. "Is it too much to ask for what you have?" she pleaded desperately. "What am I doing wrong?"

Harry knelt next to her while Wayne pried Hermione's fingers off Ginny's arm. "You've done nothing wrong. You're the best, and that plonker is mad to leave you," Harry said earnestly. "If you were mine, I'd—"

He stopped when he saw Ginny, Wayne, and Luna staring at him in surprise. He looked back at Hermione, whose head was resting on her knees. She was mumbling something unintelligible and poking herself in the head again. Ginny stopped her hand while Harry and Wayne pulled her to her feet.

"We need to get her home," Luna said.

"I'm calling her mum," Ginny said.

Harry and Wayne talked in Hermione's living room as Ginny prepared Hermione for bed. She was barely conscious and drunkenly fussed, but Ginny was patient with her heart-broken friend.

Wayne heard Ginny's voice and smiled. From the first time he met Ginny six years ago, he knew his life would never be the same. He had always been just a face in the crowd, just another Hufflepuff, until Ginny dropped her handbag on his foot that day six years ago outside of Fortescue's. Harry and his friends had always been in a "popularity bubble" as he had once told Ginny, and blokes like him were always on the outside looking in. When he married Ginny, he became fast friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He had never seen closer friends than the three and they were just all-around good people. Wayne was now "one of them" as Luna and others often said.

Ginny came back into the living room. "She's fast asleep," she said.

"I'll stay here tonight," Harry said and patted the sofa. "She's watched over me enough times, I can return the favor."

A short time later they left and Harry took off his shoes and settled comfortably on the plush sofa. He heard Hermione's soft snores echo from the bedroom. He lifted his head when he heard her cough.

He rose from the sofa and went to the bedroom. She was on her side, snoring softly, clutching a pillow, her hair spread wildly over the pillow her head rested on. Her lips were slightly parted in sleep and he noted that she had the longest eyelashes in existence. Ginny had changed her into a simple pink cotton tank top, and because he had been focused on her pretty face, he didn't notice right away that Ginny didn't bother with bottoms. She merely pulled the sheet over Hermione's lower half. He swallowed heavily and against his better judgment, he dared to glance a few seconds longer where the sheet had ridden low on her hips. His breath hitched at what he saw.

She was wearing a g-string, a pink satin g-string at that! His world tilted on its axis. He would have never thought of her wearing such a thing. He took a good look at her again, suddenly feeling like a pervert. Here was his best friend since the age of 11, passed out drunk from a broken heart and all he could do was ogle at her. He quickly left the bedroom and flopped back down on the sofa. Sleep would be hard to find that night with visions of g-strings dancing in his head.


	3. Chapter 3

**In the morning....**

Thumping on the front door startled Harry. He yawned, rose from the sofa and answered the door. Mrs. Granger was standing there with a baby on her hip that he swore was a one-year old Hermione look-alike. The baby babbled and pointed at Harry.

"Mrs. Granger...and little Miss Granger, good morning," he said, looking at his watch. "I should have been up--"

She patted his shoulder and came inside.

"Good to see you, Harry," she said. "Ian's parking the car."

She put the baby in a play pen Hermione kept in the flat for when she watched her little sister. Ian Granger examined the hedgerows that lined the sidewalk as he made his way to the front door with a bag in hand. He held out his hand for Harry when he walked through the door.

"I was hoping that brown trout would be here so I could give him a piece of my mind," he said.

"You'd have to wait in line," Harry said. "I get first dibs."

"She still asleep?" Grace asked and went to the bedroom.

Evelyn babbled at the cat that pawed at the playpen. Ian removed wrapped presents from the bag and an envelope from his jacket pocket. Ten minutes later, Grace came back into the living room and glanced at the playpen. She rolled her eyes and went to it, removed the cat from the baby's clutches, and deposited the feline on the sofa.

"She's showering and dressing," Grace said and went to the kitchen, starting tea and rifling through the cupboard for food.

"She usually has a scone with raspberry jam for breakfast," Harry said.

"Well, by the looks of this cupboard, it appears that she needs to visit the market," Grace said.

"I'll go," Harry said and put on his jacket.

"That's sweet of you," Grace said.

"Would you like anything?" Harry asked.

"Again, that's sweet of you, but no," Grace said.

After Harry left, Ian took the baby from the playpen and sat on the sofa with her. The cat cuddled next to his leg. He scratched behind Crook's ears.

"See, pumpkin? We pet the kitty, not squash the kitty," he explained to the baby.

Hermione emerged from the bedroom as her mother set the tea service on the table.

"Happy birthday, sweetie," Ian and Grace said and engulfed her in a hug. They stepped back and looked at her carefully.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to start bawling. I'm done with that, no more tears over the tosser," she said.

"That's my girl," Ian said and hugged her one more time.

"Here, have some tea," Grace said.

"I'm starved," Hermione said and went to the kitchen, discovering what her mother had. "I need to pay Tesco a visit."

"Harry's getting something," Ian said.

"Did he come by?" Hermione asked and sat down with her tea.

"He spent the night on your couch," Grace said.

"He didn't have to do that," Hermione said.

"We're just glad that you have such good friends," Grace said.

"So am I," Hermione said. "I kind of went...spare last night. It was pathetic."

Quick knocks on the door signaled Harry's return. He poked his head in and smiled when he saw Hermione.

"I come bearing food," he said and lifted a bag.

"Excellent," Hermione said.

Ian and Grace watched the two in the kitchen interact as if they prepared breakfast together every day. Grace looked pointedly at Ian. After breakfast, Hermione was given more presents. Gift cheques from her favorite stores, a new tea service, and the last when Ian gave her an envelope. She opened it, looked at the contents and gasped.

"Dad! I don't know what to say!" she said.

"You've said for years now that Las Vegas is somewhere you've always wanted to go," Ian said.

"That sounds great right about now. I have almost two years worth of holiday time saved up," she said.

"So Morocco next year?" Grace asked.

**

Hermione left to spend the day with her parents, so Harry went to The Burrow. The Chudley Cannons Team, of which Ron was the Keeper, were playing a home match this week so Ron was home for the weekend. Ginny was looking over a catalog of maternity clothes with her mother, while Wayne, Arthur and Ron were talking about the Quidditch World Cup that had taken place a month prior. Harry sat by the living room window, deep in thought while nursing a Butterbeer.

"You're awfully quiet over there, is everything alright?" Molly asked Harry.

"Oh....yes, I just have a lot on my mind," he replied.

"Well, if there's anything we can do to help, just say the word," Molly said.

"Actually--" he said and stopped. _If I can't even voice it here, how am I going to ask her? Idiot!_

He rose, ran his hands through his hair and faced them. "I was thinking about asking Hermione out," he said carefully.

Ginny put her hand over her mouth.

"Out? Like just the two of you going somewhere together?" Ronald asked.

"Yes, Ron, like that!" Harry snapped.

"Calm down, mate," Ron said.

"Sorry Ron, it's just got me on edge," Harry said.

"When were you planning on asking her out?" Ginny said.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I don't want it to be too soon after Trace."

"Don't wait too long. Someone might get to her before you. Word gets around fast when a good witch is available," Wayne said.

"That makes us sound like cattle," Ginny mumbled.

"You think I don't know that? I know she's out of my league! I'm worried that things will get weird between us if it doesn't work out," Harry said.

"You two would make a fabulous couple," Ginny said. "She already loves you, just not in a romantic way-"

"-yet," Ron added.

"-and she knows you better than anyone. I say it would be perfectly natural for the two of you to be a couple," Ginny said.

"Harry, please don't sell yourself short. She's not out of your league, whatever that means," Molly said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "What I mean is that she's grown smarter, prettier and--"

He was going to add "sexier" but thought twice, especially with this bunch. The mickey would be never-ending from Ron.

"-and I've stayed the same. Will she, can she, see me as something other than her bumbling best friend?" Harry asked. "She's just everything a man could want, as far as I'm concerned," Harry said and plopped back down on the sofa.

"Aww, that's...so romantic," Ginny said.

"Harry James Potter, how can you ask what she will see in you? This is Hermione, and I can guarantee that she already likes what she sees!" Molly exclaimed.

**

**Four days later, DMLE Canteen**

At lunch, Harry saw Hermione waving at him from her usual table. He made his way there with his usual sandwich and Coke. She patted the chair across the small table.

"Nice to see you back here," he said.

"I finally caught up on some important cases," she said. "Which brings me to my next point. Since I've caught up on work, I decided to use the plane ticket Dad gave me and go on holiday. Come Friday, I'm going away for a week. Can you give me ride to Heathrow and feed Crooks while I'm away?"

"Sure, just bring me back something," he said.

He listened to her babble about Caesar's Palace and the desert and wondered how he would go a week without seeing her. After his declaration at the Weasley's, she was all he could think about. He blinked quickly when he realized she was waving a hand in his face.

"Earth to Harry? Wow, where did you go? Is something wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

He waved her concern off. "No, just work stuff."

"How was Ron's match? You went, right?" she asked.

"They lost. Ron's a good keeper, but it takes more than a good keeper to win a match," Harry said.

"Look, there's the recap of the weekend's matches," Hermione said. "As much as Ginny liked to play--"

"And she was top-notch at it too--" Harry added.

"--she really seems to enjoy her new career," Hermione finished, watching Ginny recap the weekend's Quidditch matches on the canteen telly screen.

After she had baby number two, Ginny decided to retire from Quidditch. That was also around the time that Malfoy Enterprises, under the leadership of a surprisingly enlightened and progressive Draco Malfoy, introduced the Muggle concept of telecommunications to the UK wizarding world. He realized the enormous profit potential and notoriety of being a trendsetter in Magical society and launched Dragon Communications. The network was comprised of telly programming, telephones, mobiles, and a competitor radio network opposite Wizarding World Wireless. Draco let it be known that computers were next on his list.

"Apple who?" he often quipped. Dragon Communications was also completely and proudly independent of the Ministry for Magic.

One of Draco's first decisions was to land Ginny as a presenter; the beautiful war heroine and former Quidditch star was now the lead commentator/reporter for _Quidditch Today_, the number two rated programme behind _The Guiding Wand_. Hermione returned her attention to Harry when an advert for Quidditch gloves appeared.

"Did you get your hair cut?" she asked.

"Um...yes, some," he asked.

"It looks nice, especially there around your ears," she said.

"Thanks," he said. "Hermione, there's something I've been meaning to ask you--" he started but stopped when a witch from her department arrived at her side and said something quietly to her. She nodded, rose from the table, and smiled apologetically at Harry.

"Duty calls. You had a question?" she asked and slid her arms into her department robe.

"It can wait," he said.

"Harry, are you sure that nothing's wrong? You know you can tell me anything," she said.

"Get back to work, slacker," he said and waved her off.

"Slacker? Moi? What are you doing here faffing about?" she asked mock-haughtily.

"Faff? I assure you, Miss Granger, that Harry Potter doesn't faff or anything of the like," he replied in equal mock-haughtiness.

She giggled and gave him a quick squeeze.

_She smells like roses!_ he thought.

**

Hermione stood in front of McCarran International Airport, stupefied at the climate at just 10 a.m. She had never felt anything like it. A taxi pulled up in front of her and the window rolled down.

"Need a ride?" the driver asked.

"Yes. My hotel is Caesars Palace," she answered.

"Well well, a Brit. Welcome to Vegas," he said.

Hermione grew more and more excited as they passed casino after casino with huge luxury hotels.

"What do you think?" the driver asked.

"It's amazing," she said. "And the heat! I've never felt anything like it!"

"That's the desert for you," he said and they arrived at a hotel that indeed resembled a ancient Roman palace.

She paid the driver and a uniformed man approached her and offered to take her bags inside. She thanked him, grateful for the help. She was tired from the flight and was hotter than she'd ever been. At the reception desk, she told them her name and was warmly greeted.

"Miss Granger from London, welcome," the woman said. "You have a five-night reserved stay in one of our Palace Tower Premium Rooms," she said and slid an envelope with the room keys across the counter. "Enjoy your stay."

She took the lift (or elevator as they called it in America) to her room, fumbled with the key the first few tries and entered the room with a huff. She dropped her satchel at what she saw. The room was stunning and as large as her entire flat!

She glanced at a doorway to the left, went to it and gasped. The was more than just a loo and the largest she had ever seen. It featured dual showers, dual basins, an over-sized spa tub, and was constructed of beautiful dual marble. It even had a bidet! Astounded that the room had more amenities than her own flat, she flopped down on the king-size bed and fell asleep gazing out the window.


	4. Chapter 4

**The next day...**

As Harry was leaving his office, his mobile rang. He glanced at the clock, glad to be heading home before dark, something that rarely happened.

"Hello?"

_"Harry? It's Grace."_

"Hi Mrs. Granger."

_"Hermione just rang me, but she didn't have a lot of time to chat, going to spa appointment and all. She wanted me to tell everyone she's having a good time and that the food is excellent. She's gambling and what's the term...clubbing?...tonight."_

"Well, uh...that's good to hear. She deserves a good time."

_"I agree, she certainly does. Oh, her room number in case anyone wants to ring her is..."_

As Grace babbled, Harry's thoughts drifted to images of Hermione's lips wrapped around a drink straw. Yes, her long, soft hair flowing over a backless, silky, sexy dress; her lithe body swaying, her hips--

_"Harry, are you still there?"_

"A silky dress."

_"Pardon? What dress?"_

"Oi! Nothing!" he said.

She told Harry that she intended to pick Hermione up from Heathrow when she returned from holiday.

_"Take care, Harry."_

"Sure thing, Mrs. Granger."

_Harry, you really are an idiot, a first class idiot, he thought. Silky dress??_

**

In the meantime, Harry spent most of his time (both at work and at home) planning and imagining various scenarios he might use to ask Hermione out. Time was his biggest problem, because timing would be everything.

He didn't want to ask too soon in case she was still hurting over Trace.

He didn't want it to look like he was just waiting for Trace to be out of the way so he could have a shot at her, jockeying for position, even if it was the truth.

He didn't want to bother her if she decided that she didn't want to date anyone for a while.

Could he blame her? Trace left for no reason, the bloke before Trace cheated on her, and before that, Ron. There were some things that were taboo conversation subjects, and the fast-and-furious but ultimately doomed Ron-Hermione relationship was one of the subjects.

Three days before she was to return, he took a page from one of Hermione's many books and started making lists. He ordered twice as much Chinese take-away for the long night ahead.

**What She Likes  
What She Doesn't Like  
Reasons To Ask Her Out  
Reasons Not To Ask Her Out  
What I Need To Do**

He stopped and looked at the papers spread out over the coffee table. He flicked a noodle off one list (he wasn't good with chopsticks) and nodded in approval. _Maybe this list thing isn't such a bad idea; it helps get a person's thoughts straight._

He next did something that he knew Hermione wouldn't care about. Or would she? He went through his wardrobe and tossed out everything that was old, tatty, too small, or stained. Was she just being tactful and nice all these years about his ridiculous wardrobe? He decided that from now on, he would look his best for her. She deserved nothing less. He took an extended lunch break and shopped for new clothes and shoes. The day before she was to return, he decided to ring her, just wanting to hear her voice. He made note of the time difference, (it was nine a.m. Las Vegas time) dialed, and waited. After four rings, her slightly breathless voice was heard.

_"Hello?"_

"Were you busy?"

_"Uh...no, just in the bath. How's everything across the pond?"_

"Busy with a new investigation, and I think Crooks has a girlfriend."

He heard her husky chuckle and it sent a shiver down his spine. _"That's my boy."_

"I heard from your mum and she reported that you were having a good time."

_"Harry, it's brilliant! There's so much to do! I have so much to tell everyone when I get back home. I even won four hundred dollars at the slots last night!"_

He opened his mouth to respond and heard, _"Hold on Harry."_ He heard her cheery voice greeting a man's voice and a door closing.

_"That was room service with breakfast. I slept in this morning, and I didn't feel like going down to breakfast."_

"So, what's on the tray?"

_"It's something that we Brits rarely have, and something Americans have made into somewhat of an art form, in my opinion anyway."_

"That good?"

_"Yes, waffles, and not just plain waffles at that. I'm talking thick, buttery, Belgian waffles topped with spiced apples, or strawberries with whipped cream, or blueberries with whipped cream. Breakfast has turned into my favorite time of day while here, and don't get me going about the omelets."_

"Sounds great, so I'll let you at your waffles. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

_"Yes, late afternoon, barring any unexpected flight delays."_

"Take care, I've--well, we've missed you. Crooks wants his number one girl back." _So do I._

_"Bye Harry!"_

**

That night, Hermione stood at the Bellagio water fountain a final time for the spectacular nighttime show. More than a few newlywed couples happily strolled by and she couldn't help but smile at their happiness. A voice with an accent similar to her own from behind startled her from her musings.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" an elderly woman asked.

"Yes Madame, it is."

"Ahh, a fellow Brit. What brings you to the desert, Miss...?"

Hermione extended her hand. "Granger, Madame. My parents gave me this trip as a birthday present."

The old woman nodded and tapped her chin. "Of the Islington Grangers?"

Hermione chuckled. "No Madame, of London."

"Well, there's many Grangers in London."

"Indeed there are."

"Why would such a pretty young woman be here by herself?"

"You know, I ask myself the same question, but without the pretty part."

The old woman tsked at her and shook her head. "Surely those young bucks back home must be lined up at your door?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh and a soft snort escaped. "I was seeing someone, but not any more. That's part of the reason why I'm here. I had to get away to get my head on straight."

The old woman rose, waved at someone behind her and she turned. An old man joined them.

"Tom, this is Miss Granger from London," she said.

He extended his hand. "Small world, huh? Pleased to meet you, Miss. Thank you for keeping my Kathy company. I didn't want her to miss the fountain on account of my failing bladder."

"Tom!" the old woman declared, scandalized.

"That's alright. My grandfather used to say things like that all of the time, it scandalized my grandmother to no end," Hermione said, smiling at the memories of her grandfather teasing her grandmother.

The old man looked at his watch. "Bedtime for us, I'm afraid. We have an early flight," he said.

"Back to England?"

"No, to San Francisco to see our grandchildren. This is probably the last trip to America we'll be able to make," the old woman said, holding the old man's hand tenderly.

Hermione felt tears in her eyes. God, how she longed for that kind of love.

"Out of curiosity, how long have you been married?"

"Sixty years, last month," the man said proudly.

"Good Lord! Congratulations!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Why thank you, dearie. You're still young enough to make it as long as me and my Tom, you know. Better get crackin'," the woman said, patting Hermione's hand.

**

Harry looked again at the clock on his desk and drummed his fingers on the desk. It was four p.m., the time for Hermione's return. He decided to wait to give her time to get home and settled. He didn't want to just burst in on her after such a long flight; jet lag could make even the best-tempered person a downright grouch. Why she didn't just take an international Port Key was beyond him, but he learned a long time ago not to question Hermione's motives. She usually had a good reason for anything she did.  
He left his office shortly after six, bought some flowers and went to her flat. He knocked softly, disabled the wards, and carefully opened the door. He stepped in, looked in the living room, and saw her asleep on the sofa. He smiled at the sight. He walked silently to the sofa and took in the sight of her.

She was sprawled out, one hand resting on her stomach, the other resting above her head. Her lips were slightly parted in sleep and her glorious hair was spread all over the pillow. He grinned at her "**What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas**" t-shirt. He tripped over something at his feet.

_Cowboy boots?_

"Like my boots?" a sleepy voice asked.

His eyes shot to her face. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said with a shy smile.

Hermione saw his shy smile and it was if something had suddenly turned on inside her brain. She looked curiously at Crooks sitting on the top of the sofa as if he held an answer to a question. How many times had she seen Harry's sweet, shy smile? Why was that shy smile suddenly so appealing to her?

_It's like the sun peeking through the clouds_, she thought in a poetic sort of way.

"It's okay Harry, it's good to see you. Are those for me?" she asked, pointing at the flowers.

He forgot he was holding them. "Oh...yes! A welcome home present for our number one girl," and added, "the boots are fantastic."

"Aren't they?" she asked, picked them up and stroked the supple leather. "Which reminds me, I'm inviting the gang for breakfast on Saturday. I bought a waffle iron and a cookery book-"

"-a book, surprise there."

"-to make everyone some fabulous waffles and distribute souvenirs," she finished.


	5. Chapter 5

_"Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over."_ (On the author's own wedding invites)

On Saturday morning, Harry, Ginny and Wayne (with their two year-old twins, Wayne Jr. and little Molly) Ron, and Luna were in Hermione's flat for a waffle breakfast. Ron, who was quite the doting uncle, was entertaining his nephew and niece. Ginny and Luna were discussing the waffle iron while Hermione mixed the batter. She flicked some droplets of water on the iron to test the heat and nodded in satisfaction. She poured the batter, closed the iron and waited.

"That's it?" Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded and watched the timing light on the iron.

"Which topping do you want?" she asked, indicating the heated toppings on the stove.

"The strawberries," Ginny replied.

The light on the iron dimmed. Hermione opened the iron and removed the hot waffle.

"Blimey, that smells good," Ron commented from the kitchen door.

"The pregnant one gets the first batch," Hermione said and slathered butter, the strawberry topping, and maple syrup on the steaming waffle.

"Enjoy," she said and gave the plate to Ginny.

Ron watched the plate's journey to the dining table. Half an hour later, a grumbling Ron was the last one to receive his waffles. Hermione generously slathered butter, blueberry topping, whipped cream, and syrup on his waffle.

"It's worth the wait, I assure you," she said with a mischievous grin.

Ron didn't wait until he sat at the table. He started the waffles before he sat and groaned in pleasure.

"Told you," Hermione said. "Anyone want another?"

Everyone raised their hands.

**

After breakfast, everyone except Harry left for the day. He stayed to help Hermione clean the breakfast dishes, or so he told himself. Saturday was a day of relaxation, fun, friends and family after a week of work, and there was no place he'd rather be. Hermione was waiting for her mum to drop off her baby sister for the weekend while Ian and Grace went to a dental convention. As she was putting the last dish away, the doorbell rang. With a flick of her wand, the door opened.

"I will never get over how convenient your special skills are," Grace said and hugged Hermione in greeting.

Ian followed with Evelyn and saw Harry emerge from the bathroom.

"How were the waffles?" Ian asked.

"Delicious," Harry said.

Hermione was given the baby's bag and a new package of nappies.

"Now, you know our mobile numbers, but here's the information for our hotel and the conference schedule," Grace said and gave her a piece of paper. "Don't hesitate to call for anything, even if she's just fussy before bed and you don't know what--"

Ian stepped forward. "Now Gracie honey, I'm sure Hermione will be fine. Evie has the best big sister in the world, doesn't she?"

"It's just that this is the first time we've left for an extended period of time without her," Grace said.

"It's just for the weekend, mum," Hermione said.

"I know, but one day you'll be a mum and you'll understand," Grace said and handed over Evie.

Hermione cuddled her close. "We're going to have a good time, aren't we sweetling?" Hermione asked.

Evie answered by babbling and playing with Hermione's hair.

"I'll just be taking her to the park and the shopping centre, the toy store expanded last month," Hermione said.

"Just don't spend too much," Grace said.

"Of course not," Hermione said and winked at Harry.

Harry fondly observed to the family interaction and his heart ached just a bit. God, how he wanted that. Love, companionship, and family- everyone he knew had it. Well, almost everyone. He, Ron, and Hermione had yet to take the plunge. Was that some sort of weird fate? Three best friends destined to be that forever? Of course the three would always be best friends, but would one of them break up the trio?

_I'm such an idiot. I make us sound like some sort of Singles Mafia._

He realized that Hermione was waving her hand in front of his voice. The baby was imitating Hermione and waving her chubby little hand too.

"Harry, are you alright? You drifted off again," she said.

"Yeah, just have a lot on my mind," he said. _She must get tired of hearing me say that._

"Well, it's the weekend, so put that lot elsewhere," she said. "We've got a baby to spoil and entertain."

**

By the end of the day, Harry was amazed at the sheer amount of patience Hermione had when it came to the baby. No matter how many nappies she changed, no matter how many times she had her hair pulled, no matter how many times she pried those little hands off every object the baby could reach, Hermione adored the baby each and every second of the day.

He prepared a quick, easy dinner for the two and listened to the squeals of the baby as Hermione bathed her. After the bath, she sat on the sofa and gave her a warm bottle. Hermione hummed as the baby fed, gently stroking the fine curls, while Crooks lounged and waved his tail lazily beside her. He wished he had a camera to record the scene.

_Tonight, I'll do or say...something. I dunno yet, but something._

He cast a warming spell on the simple supper of chicken cutlets and green beans and waited for her to put the baby to bed. She moved the playpen in the guest room, warded the room so the cat wouldn't go in and joined Harry for supper.

"After today, I wondered if you'd be up to cooking," he said.

"It wasn't that tough, I had a good time," she said, spearing a green bean. "You helped."

"All I did was carry things," he said.

"You stayed with us the entire day although you didn't have to," she said.

He shrugged. "My date cancelled."

She put down her fork. "You had a date? Who? Why would she cancel on you?"

He chuckled. "No date, not really. I sure had you going though, didn't I," he said.

She chucked a bean at him and peered at him pensively. "Harry, when was the last time you went out with someone?"

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"Harry, come on."

"It doesn't matter, it wasn't right anyway."

"I see."

"Do you really?"

"Okay, not really. It's just that I think you would remember the last time you went out...with a woman."

"Seven months ago, okay?"

"I'm sorry if I made you angry," she said and rose from the table with her plate.

"I'm not angry with you, it's just that-"

"You don't have to say anything else, and I won't bring it up again," she said. "I'm going to check on the baby."

When she returned, he was at the front door, slipping his arms into a jacket. _Damn it, me and my big mouth!_

She stopped in front of him and straightened his collar.

"I _am_ sorry for poking a sore spot," she said.

He put a finger on her lips and spoke. "I had a good time today, and you have nothing to be sorry for."

_It's now or never Potter!_

He moved his hand from her mouth, slowly, to the back of her head. She watched him curiously and froze when his face moved closer to hers. His gentle kiss lingered a few seconds on her lips. He stepped back and held her hands.

"_That_ was right," he said.

When he Apparated away, all she could do was blink.

**

With a huff, Hermione flopped down on her bed, phone in hand.

_"I really don't know what to tell you_," Ginny said.

"Not helpful," Hermione said.

_Hermione, be reasonable. What am I supposed to say? So he kissed you, are you angry?"_

"No, just surprised. I could never be angry at him for something like kissing me. He must have had a good reason."

Ginny chuckled. _"You are truly over-analyzing this. I'm not surprised that he kissed you."_

"What's that supposed to mean?"

_"Well...it's just that...he expressed the possibility of a more...romantic relationship with you."_

"Just when did he express this?" Hermione asked shrilly. "Oh my God, I'm so stupid! He kissed me and I just stood there!"

_"The best advice I can give is for you two to talk. The worst thing you can do is stew over what he's thinking, when you have no idea what he's thinking."_

"You're right, Gin."

_"I'm willing to wager that he's freaking out just as much as you are right now. Now if you'll excuse me, the pregnant lady needs to go to sleep."_

Ginny hung up the phone with a smile.

"What was that all about?" Wayne asked, seeing her impish grin.

She told Wayne the events of the day. "What she didn't say was more important that what she did say."

Wayne quirked an eyebrow. Female logic?

"She didn't say that she was angry, embarrassed, or that she objected to the kiss in any way, shape, or form. And if I'm not mistaken, there was a hint of excitement in her voice," Ginny said.

**  
At Grimmauld Place, Ron stepped through the floo with Butterbeer and a bag of crisps. He was greeted with the sight of Harry pacing, running his hands through his hair, and furious mumbling.

"What's happened?" Ron asked.

Harry was startled by Ron's appearance and tripped over a chair.

"Blimey Ron, warn a bloke next time!"

"You didn't notice the floo lighting up?"

Harry huffed and tossed his glasses on the side table and mumbled something unintelligible.

"I didn't catch that," Ron said and tossed a crisp into his mouth.

"I kissed Hermione."

Ron choked on the crisp, took a sip of Butterbeer and cleared his throat. "When?"

Harry looked at his watch. "Twenty minutes ago."

Ron set aside the Butterbeer and made his way to the cupboard where the spirits were kept. "This calls for more than Butterbeer."

It didn't take long for Harry to tell him about his day.

"And you kissed her? Just like that?" Ron asked.  
Harry nodded.

"What happened after?"

"I left."

"You left? Just like that? What did she say?"

"Nothing, she just stood there and blinked. It was a now or never kind of moment."

"Well, you're a now or never kind of bloke."

"Not helping, Ron."

"What do you want me to say? This isn't an earth-shattering event. So you kissed her, isn't that what you wanted?"

"Eventually...yes. I just hope things aren't weird between us now. Was it too soon?"

"Maybe you should have stayed."

"I know that now! I couldn't help myself! We spent the whole day together and you should have seen her with the baby!"

"What baby?"

"She's watching her baby sister for the weekend."

"You were with her and a baby the whole day? Why?"

"I wanted to and she didn't mind."

"So on your day off, you spent the day with Hermione and a baby."

"Yes."

"You've got it bad, mate."

"How perceptive of you."

"You're using big words. You're either drunk or invoking the spirit of Hermione. She uses big words too."

"Git."

"Still doesn't explain why you just left."

"I'm a coward."

"Hardly, you're just not sure where you stand with her. I know you and I know Hermione. The best thing for both of you is to talk this out."

Harry nodded.

"Is that a new shirt?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded.

"You bought new clothes?"

"Yeah."

"Like I said, you've got it bad."

"You know what gets me? I'm 29, but I'm worrying and whinging like some kind of love-struck kid. Makes me feel stupid."

"You're not stupid, but you are love struck. That much is obvious to everyone except you and Hermione. Wait...maybe it's obvious to her now."

Harry tossed back a third shot of whiskey. "Her lips are soft and her hair smells good."

"I know."

"Oi! Whaddya mean _you know?_"

Ron rolled his eyes and tossed back his own shot of whiskey. "We were a couple at one time."

Harry frowned. "For like two months."

"Well, we did manage to work in a kiss or two in that time, thank you very much...among other things."

Harry glared at him. "You're my best friend, but if you say what I think you're going to say, _don't_. I'll throw you out on your arse."

**  
It was raining the next day, so there would be no taking the baby to the park. _At least we got to go yesterday._ Evie was easy to amuse, curious, and liked to play. She especially loved "pat-a-cake" and talking games. She liked to point at the cat and say "ca-ca-ca" until something else came into her sight. She walked around the entire flat using the walls and furniture until lunchtime, succumbing to hunger and a nap. Hermione had time to grab a sandwich, not knowing how long the baby would nap.

From what her mum told her, she might sleep anywhere from half an hour to two hours. In the quiet flat, her thoughts came to rest on the previous night.

_Harry kissed me._

_I guess he wants to be more than friends._

_We've known each other for almost twenty years, we're both single, why not?_

_Harry kissed me._

_Can I love him as more than a friend?_

_Besides my parents, no one knows me better than Harry.  
Ginny's right, I am thinking about it too much. I'll just go with it and see what happens._

Evie woke, so she changed her nappy and gave her a snack. When she was wiping Evie's face, Ginny came through the floo. The pregnant redhead was dying to hear about last night.

"I heard she was here," Ginny said and held her arms out for the baby. "She looks so much like you."

Evie looked at Hermione's hair, then Ginny's, and proceeded to examine Ginny's hair more closely.

"She's smart like you, isn't she?"

Hermione nodded. "Actually, mum and dad say she's smarter than I was at that age. However, I think that the older I get, the dumber I get."

They both took seats in the living room. "You're not still stressed about the kiss are you?" Ginny asked.

"Not really. I'm taking your advice and just going with it. It's pointless to freak out about it. It's funny how you refer to it though, _the kiss_."

"Ron dropped in on Harry last night. Whiskey was involved, so there's no telling what they talked about."

When the conversation came to an end, Ginny knew that she was right; excitement and curiosity tinged Hermione's side of the conversation. It also made Ginny wonder something else: just how long had Harry and Hermione fancied each other without really knowing it? It would explain why their relationships never lasted. Neither Ron nor Trace were really for Hermione.

_And I was never really for Harry._

"Life sure throws you for a loop sometimes, doesn't it?" Ginny asked before she stepped into the floo.

"Does it ever, take care," Hermione said and waved Ginny away with a lazy gesture.

**  
The only hitch of the weekend was when Hermione was picking up stack of magazines that Crooks knocked over, running away from the fast-crawling baby. She heard Evie giggle from the hallway, near the bathroom doorway. The baby was waving her mobile.

_How the hell did she get it? Little sneak!_

What happened next had her parents laughing for years; Hermione, not so much. With a throw worthy of a world-class Quidditch player, the baby launched the mobile with a thrilled squeal and Hermione heard a splash of water. The baby dropped to her bum and crawled away in pursuit of Crooks. Hermione went to the bathroom and saw her mobile phone in the toilet. Later that night, her parents rang the flat phone to let her know they were back home, so she bundled up the baby and made the short drive across London to their home. Upon arrival, she handed the baby over and smiled at their gushing reunion.

"I had a great time with her, but you owe me mobile," she quipped to them.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Chapter Notes:

Wrong time and wrong place...the primary ingredients of bad luck.

**

Later that night, Harry contemplated the mobile in his hands, staring at it as if it would give him an answer to some great question.

_I stood before Voldemort; hell, I looked him in the eye when we fought, so why can't I push some numbers on a piece of plastic to hear the voice of someone..._

He gulped and pressed the first number.

_...I love._

There was no answer on either her mobile or flat phone.

_I finally get a grip on my balls to ring her there's no answer. Great._

* * *

Due to the headphones blasting music into her ears while she ran on the treadmill, Hermione didn't hear the phone ring. Over the years, she found exercise as an ideal way to clear her mind and tire her enough to relax for a good night's sleep. She ran this evening because of the pleasantly alarming thoughts of Harry. Could thoughts be pleasant and alarming at the same time? _Pleasantly alarming? You're over-analyzing again, swot._ She pressed a button to make the treadmill go a tick faster.

_I adore his shy, sweet smile.  
He was so good with the baby.  
He makes me feel special.  
Mum is crazy about him and Dad likes him too.  
He puts the perfect amount of jam on my scone._

She almost tripped at how suggestive that sounded, but regained her balance and ran until sweat was trickling down her back. After a long, vigorous run, sleep came easily that night. The next morning, she readied herself for work and glanced around the lounge for her mobile.

_Oh that's right, it went for a swim in the toilet._

With her satchel and handbag in hand, she walked down the street to the local shopping centre and hailed a taxi to take to Charing Cross Road. Ordinarily, she would walk the ten minute distance, but she was running a tad late and it looked as if would rain. Upon arrival, she walked the short distance to The Leaky Cauldron, waved "hi" to Tom and took the pub's floo to one of the Ministry's public floo.

In the atrium, she stopped at _The Daily Prophet_ vendor. When she opened her handbag to pay for the paper and she heard angry shouts behind her. Before she could turn her head to see what the commotion was about, she was knocked off her feet and thrown into the newspaper display. Her head hit the glass door of an office behind the vendor. She fell to the floor, heard a snapping sound, and felt a terrible pain from her arm.

Harry had just finished the Minister's morning briefing when he heard shouts from the atrium. He looked out the door and saw flashes of spell light, then saw someone falling over and demolishing The Daily Prophet news stand. He ran toward the fracas with two Aurors at his heels. The duel was ending, but Harry ordered the offenders apprehended and went to see to the unlucky bystander that inadvertently destroyed the newspaper stand. His heart fell to his stomach when he saw that it was Hermione. She had a broken arm, a nasty cut above her right ear and was losing consciousness.

_**"Summon a Healer now!"**_ he bellowed so loudly the entire atrium fell into silence.

On his mobile, Harry paced the corridor outside one of the Urgent Care wards of St. Mungo's, reassuring the Grangers that Hermione was going to be fine. He also knew that she was going to be pissed off that yet again she was in hospital.

In the seven years Hermione had been with the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she had made numerous trips to St. Mungo's. A side-effect of working with wild and magical creatures, one would think; except that in Hermione's case, it seemed to happen to her more than anyone else in her department. The last time Hermione had been in hospital was another Taboo Conversation Subject; a subject that led Hermione to seek a transfer to another department. No one, not even on their best day, cares to admit that they spent time in hospital due to "injuries caused by rabbits" as her medical file stated. To this day, Harry had to stifle a laugh when he remembered the conversation with her parents.

_"Yes mum, they were rabbits, but two dozen rabid, large, magically-altered rabbits!"_ she had vehemently declared.

Just when he finished with the Grangers, Hermione's Healer emerged from the ward.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Potter," he said. "My most frequent and interesting patient is going to be fine, but because of the head injury, I would feel better if she stayed overnight for us to keep an eye on her. Head injuries can be tricky."

"I've contacted her parents, and they'll go along with whatever you think is best," Harry said.

* * *

Her eyelids fluttered open. She yawned and stretched before she realized that she could only stretch one arm; the other was painful and in a cast. She was then aware of the general smell in the air that was not her bedroom. She grunted and slapped the thin mattress in frustration.

The door opened and her healer walked in. He stopped beside the bed, glanced at the clock and made a note on the parchment laden clipboard. He shined a light from the medical wand in her eyes and wiggled a finger for her to look.

"We're going to name a room after you," he quipped.

"Aren't you in the law now? I thought your were-rabbit wrangling days were over."

She rolled her eyes. Would she ever live that down?

"I just stopped to get a paper, in the Ministry atrium, just feet from the Minister's office. Honestly, how much trouble was that going to be?" she asked.

"How does your head feel?"

"A headache, but a tolerable one, but I can't say the same for this," she said, tapping the cast on her arm.

"It's a clean break, we set it while you were unconscious. Now that you're awake, you can have the Skele-Grow," he said.

"That stuff tastes vile," she said.

"It's that or the Muggle way. Drink the stuff and leave in hours fully mended, or six weeks with a cast, your choice."

The nurse left the room, lips twitching in amusement as Hermione mumbled curses at the bottle of Skele-Grow. She watched Hermione gag her way through the first cup, noting it in the treatment record. A famous, pregnant, red-headed witch was walking toward the room.

"Are you here for Miss Granger?" the nurse asked.

Ginny nodded and held up a small overnight bag.

"Good, she'll appreciate the company," the nurse said.

Ginny knocked on the door. A cough and "come in" was heard. She poked her head in.

"Ginny! It's great to see you!"

She came in, laid the bag next to Hermione and pulled up a chair next to the bed. "They're going to name a room after you if you keep this up."

"My Healer said the same thing." Hermione said, rummaging through the bag and triumphantly held up a toothbrush and hairbrush. "Bless you, dear friend," she said, "help me up?"

Ginny rose and made sure Hermione was steady on her feet before she went to the small bathroom.

"Harry's at the Ministry, taking statements about what happened," Ginny said.

Hermione stepped from the bathroom, looking at her in question while brushing her teeth.

"He was there, he saw the entire incident as he was rushing from Kingsley's office," Ginny said. "He saw someone flying over the newspaper stand, but he didn't know it was you until the duel was over. He got you here, made sure you were being taken care of, then got right back to the Ministry. Seeing you hurt as you were... frightened him. The last time you were that hurt was--"

"Fifth year," Hermione said, sitting back on the bed and brushing her hair. "Where's that husband of yours?"

Ginny poured another glass of the Skele-Grow and held it out. "On shift, he has the Magical Bugs rotation this month. Now take it."

"It's revolting," Hermione said.

"I know, I've taken enough of it. Quidditch players have this in their lockers by the litre," Ginny said.

Harry stopped outside the door, flowers and raspberry scones in hand when he heard Hermione fussing, _"You'd think by now that someone would figure out a way to make it chocolate flavored or something like that!"_

He knocked on the door, pleased that she up and awake, well enough to be fussing.

"Come in!"

He poked his head in.

"Harry!" Hermione said, shooting him a pained smile. "It's great to see you too!"

Ginny patted her hand and stood. "Take your medicine, young lady. I'll go see that husband of mine before I go home. I'm glad you're all right."

"Thanks, Gin," he said.

"Anytime," she said and left the room.

"Are those scones I smell? I'm starved," she said and winced when another healing pain surged through her arm. "Not only does it taste horrid, but it hurts to heal," she said and took a large bite of the tasty scone.

"It's better than an inconvenient, itchy cast," he said. "So, are you really all right?"

She nodded. "They took care of my noggin straight away, the headache is almost gone. What happened?"

He sighed and settled in the chair. "Some bloke thought that another bloke from his office was seeing his wife on the sly. Hence the impromptu duel."

"Well, was he?" she asked.

"Was he what?" he asked.

"Seeing his wife on the sly?"

He shrugged and nodded. "Yeah he was, but dueling it out in an atrium full of people wasn't the best thing to do about it."

She winced and sighed heavily. He didn't like to see her in pain.

"Why don't you ask for a sleeping draught since you can't have a pain reliever?" he asked.

"Which reminds of something else that needs to be invented. A palatable Skele-Grow and a pain reliever that can be taken with it," she said.

"Gee, you don't ask for much, do you?" he asked.

"Well, this doesn't feel much like healing is what I'm saying," she said.

"I agree, but why don't you just ask for a sleeping draught anyway? That way, you'll just sleep through it," he said.

She thought for a moment and sent for a nurse. After she drank the draught, nodding in approval at the minty taste, Harry read to her from one of the books in the bag Ginny brought.

"Reason persuades me that I ought no less carefully to withhold my assent from matters which are not entirely certain and indubitable than from those which appear to me manifestly to be false..."*

_What the hell is this?_ He stopped and flipped the cover to see the book's title.

"Who's this bloke anyway? Dess-carts?" he asked.

She shook her head and mumbled sleepily, "It's pronounced deh-cart, and he was a brilliant scholar and philosopher."

"Oh."

She mumbled something unintelligible and her head rolled to the side. Her soft snores and the way her nose twitched in sleep was adorable.

_Yep, I've got it bad. I'm reading philosophy._

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

*from Descarte's Meditations On First Philosophy


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Preview:

She smiled shyly. "So you're saying that I should work late and have baby sick on me more often?"

* * *

**October 14th**

Two days later, when Hermione went back to work, Harry insisted on accompanying her in case anything happened. She sighed in exasperation when they stepped from the floo and a photographer from _The Daily Prophet_ snapped a picture as soon as they were fully emerged from the floo.

"Harry, what went on the other morning was a rare occurrence, especially here in the atrium," she said. "I've been coming in this way for eight years and hardly anything's happened in all that time."

"Well, if someone means to cause trouble and they see me here they might think twice," he said.

Hermione stopped and looked at him with a curiously raised eyebrow.

"Come on, you know what I mean. In the Auror business, a certain reputation means more than you know," he said.

"Uh huh," she said dryly and resumed walking.

"I just don't want there to be chance of you getting hurt again," he said.

She patted his arm. "That's sweet, Harry, but unless you intend to be by my side all day, there's a chance of...I dunno, a papercut...I might trip over my dust bin...you can't protect me all the time."

When they got to her office, Harry moved the dust bin from beside her desk to the far corner of the room. She chuckled. He looked at the papers on her desk.

"Don't even think about it," she said. "Now, I've got work to do and so do you. Go catch some bad guys or something."

When he kissed her on the cheek, she dropped her handbag in surprise.

"See you at lunch," he said, winked and left her office, whistling. Seconds later, her boss came in with a stack of folders.

"No rest for the weary," she quipped.

"Welcome back, good to see you up and about," he said and laid the stack on her desk. "I've almost finished redistributing the work load around the department since Mr. Harrington's sudden departure. Here's your Parole Advocate files, and your first appointment is at nine a.m. The questionnaires are already there."

She opened the first file and sighed. _Goyle. Fabulous._ She opened the second file, saw the name and shook her head. _Nott, Theodore._ She answered some Intra-Ministry mail and skimmed over the Ministry weekly newsletter and looked at the clock. Her first Parolee of the day was waiting. She went to the waiting room and spotted Goyle. He was taller than the last time she saw him and had lost weight. _I hear that people tend to lose weight in Azkaban._ She knocked on the door jam and eight in the room looked up, except for Goyle, who was focused solely on the telly, where Ginny was giving the reviews of the weekend's Quidditch matches.

"Goyle?"

He took a sip of tea and didn't appear to have heard. A wizard next to him nudged him in the side. He saw her standing in the doorway and made to put down the tea.

"You can take the tea, follow me," she said.

He followed her to her office. She closed the door, waved to the seat in front of her desk and opened the file with a wave of her hand.

"Good morning, Goyle, I'm your Parole Advocate for the next year or until they assign you someone else," she said matter-of-factly and plucked the quill from its holder. "Hmm...released two weeks ago?"

He nodded.

"You now reside at your mother's residence?" she asked.

"Yeah, my father died in Azkaban, so it's just me and my mum."

"Oh...I'm sorry about that," she said.

He shrugged. "It's our own fault, you know?"

She cleared her throat and moved to the next question. "Have you secured employment as of yet?" she asked.

"Uh...well, I been looking around, but it's hard for someone like me to get a job," he said.

She flipped through some papers and handed one to him. "This is the name of a place that calls itself a trade and vocation agency, you might have better luck with them."

"Thanks Granger, I'll see them today."

"Do you understand the conditions of your parole?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, if I break any of the conditions, I go back to Azkaban."

"Do you have any questions?" she asked.

"How long has that moving picture box been around?" he asked.

_Well, he has been in prison._

"The _telly_, for six years now. Your friend Malfoy is responsible."

"I haven't seen him yet."

"He's a rather diligent businessman these days."

"How did he dodge Azkaban?" he asked.

She put down her quill. "Why do you want to know? Or rather, _why_ don't you know?"

He shrugged. "My trial was before his, and I was sent away before I found out what happened. He shudda been in prison too."

She leaned back in her chair, rested her elbows on the armrests of her chair, and rested her chin in steepled hands.

"I've looked over the testimony from your trial. You testified under Veritaserum that you bullied and hurt students in support of Voldemort during your dubious seventh year at Hogwarts."

"But Draco--"

"Bullied and hurt others like you, yes, but during his trial he and his mother expressed sincere remorse for their actions, testified against other Death Eaters and gave valuable intelligence as to the whereabouts of the others."

"Blokes like my father," he said. She nodded and continued.

"The Malfoys had fallen out of Moldy-wart's favor, and by the time of the Final Battle, they were scared to death and hell-bent one thing: _survival_. They were frantic about Draco's survival, Narcissa in particular. The fact that Narcissa saved Harry's life right there in front of Moldy-wart helped her greatly at trial. In the end, Narcissa was seen more as unwilling, frightened servant, victimized by her husband and Moldy-wart. Draco was portrayed as a misguided, ignorant child under the sway of a parent rather than an actual Death Eater. The end result is Malfoy Senior is in Azkaban for the rest of his natural life, Mrs. Malfoy was on house arrest for ten years, and Draco finished his yearlong probation after a year's community service. They pledged millions of galleons in reparations. He saw the light, so the saying goes. The result is Dragon Communications."

"Wow."

"I would say so. Any more question?"

"Did you believe all that stuff about the Malfoys?" he asked.

"No, not until the trial. They testified under Veritaserum and a Wizard's Oath, so the truth was incontrovertible," she said.

"Oh," he said. "Well, I'll be going...got to see about a job."

"See you in six months, Goyle. Good luck."

* * *

At lunch, Harry walked into the canteen to see Hermione rubbing her temples in a familiar sign of weariness. He bought her a cup of tea and a sandwich. At the table, he pulled out a chair and took a seat.

"Rough day?" he asked and set her lunch in front of her.

"Parolee interviews," she muttered.

"Who? Are you allowed to say?"

"Goyle and Nott were the first two," she replied. "Why was Nott's file still there? He offed himself, didn't he?"

When she told him about the morning of interviews, he chuckled. "You sound like you're in love with the bloke."

"Who? Ugh, Harry, how could you-" she started to protest but he held up his hand.

"I was just teasing, I meant Malfoy."

She gave him a blank look for a few seconds then rolled her eyes. "I'm not in love with the ferret. All I did was tell Goyle what's going on, that's all. Malfoy has come far since his school-git days."

"You always see the best in people," he said.

"You think it's a naive way to live," she stated.

"No, I know you're not naive, you're just truly a good person," he said. "You're fair and honest, you've always been, that's why you're good at what you do."

"Thank you, Harry. I was just trying to get Goyle to see the value in someone turning their life around," she said.

"He may not be such a git theses days, but he's got the playboy act down pat. A different witch every week."

"Okay, that much is true," she conceded.

After lunch, Hermione and Katie Bell, another advocate in the department, and two clerks resumed work on the Archer case. Each had a stack of files before them.

"Okay, we've got a lot to do and not much time to do it. The Wizengamot only gave us a two week extension on this case," Katie said and gestured to the stacks before the clerks.

"You two will need to mark on the parchment every time you see these dates," she said and pointed out a time frame on the board behind her.

"Hermione and I will be pouring over the records of the first trial," she finished wearily.

Hours later, when most Ministry employees had left for the day, he went to the Ministry Legal Department to find Hermione and Katie bent over a file, earnestly discussing some point of law. They didn't notice him until he cleared his throat, and the two witches were startled by the sound of someone clearing their throat at the door of the conference room. He pointed at the clock on the wall behind them. It was almost 7 p.m.

"We would have gotten a lot further into this if not for the stupid parole interviews," Katie grumbled.

"At least you didn't have junior Death Eaters parading in and out of your office all morning," Hermione quipped and took the pins from her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders as she massaged her head. He coughed and shifted his feet. Katie looked at him curiously.

_Sexy Hermione-caused erection, incoming!_ he thought.

"We'll tackle this tomorrow," Katie said and stood, gathering the scattered files.

"Want me to come in early?" Hermione asked. "Or I can take some home?"

Katie chuckled. "That's very dedicated of you, but this bloke doesn't rate anyone's free time. We do the best we can with what we've got."

She looked at Harry. "Take Hermione out for a good dinner somewhere, would you?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry said and winked at Katie when she left the room.

"Just let me grab my things," Hermione said and went to her office. She got her handbag and cloak and joined Harry in the corridor.

"So, where to?" he asked.

"The Leaky Cauldron is fine," she said.

"Come on Hermione, someplace nice," he said.

"Don't let Tom hear you disparage his pub," she said. "I know just the place, hold on."

She took hold of his arm and Apparated. They appeared seconds later in the Granger's back garden. The back door of the home opened and her mum stepped outside.

"Pumpkin! What a nice surprise!"

"Hi mum, mind us dropping by?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all," she said, urging them into the house. She was silently thrilled to see her with Harry. "Have you had supper yet? I made too much spaghetti, there's plenty!"

"No, I haven't eaten, I just left work."

"Nose to the grindstone again?" her dad asked, coming into the kitchen with Evelyn in his arms.

Hermione smiled and reached for the baby. The baby squealed and reached for her in return. When the baby settled in her arms, she grew quiet and vomited on her big sister. Her mum chortled and took the baby from her.

"How can so much of something so horrid come out of something so small?" Hermione asked and unbuttoned her blouse.

She slipped it off and took it to the sink to wash out the vomit. She would have used magic but wasn't sure how the silk would react to the magic. Harry watched her mutter and rinse off her shirt with some dish soap as she stood there in a soft cotton tank top. He thought she might have had something on her shoulder, so he stepped closer to look. His eyebrows rose as high as they could go. Hermione had a tattoo, a phoenix tattoo! Unconsciously, his hand rose to outline the tattoo with his fingertips. She froze for a few seconds then shuddered. He woke from his musings at her shudder and stepped closer.

"When did you get this?" he quietly asked, his lips tickling her ear. She shuddered again.

"August of '98," she replied.

Harry thought back and remembered that he had seen the same tattoo on Ron once when they had been swimming.

"Ron has one too," he said.

"I know," she said. "We got them at the same time, not long before we-"

"Broke up?" he asked. She nodded.

"It's beautiful," he said and decided to take a chance, possibly one of the biggest chances he would ever take. He lowered his head and kissed the tattoo.

"They're my favorite creature, you know," he whispered and outlined the phoenix again, causing her to shudder again. "You keep shivering, are you cold?"

She don't know what possessed her say her next words. "I-I like it when you touch me."

He chuckled. "That's good, I like touching you," he said and swept her hair from her neck, preparing to place a soft kiss there when her dad came into the kitchen, startling them both.

Ian's lips twitched and he opened a drawer, taking out a spanner. "Bathroom basin's leaking again," he said and left the kitchen.

Seconds later, they heard Grace chuckling and "Kids, supper's ready!" She thought the two emerging from the kitchen grinning and blushing was priceless. A single eyebrow rose at the sight of Hermione holding her wet blouse.

"Mum, do you have something I can wear? I don't fancy sitting at supper in a tank top," she said. "I'd magic this clean, but I'm not sure how the silk would be affected."

After two helpings of spaghetti, Hermione and Harry made their goodbyes. Hermione looked at herself and sighed.

"Mum, is this shirt from your seventies disco collection?" she asked and plucked at the end of the flared sleeve.

"Your mum could boogie with the best of them," Ian said and shook Harry's hand. "Take care you two, come back and see us soon."

When they arrived back at Hermione's flat, she groaned and bumped her forehead against the wall of the lounge. "I forgot my satchel."

"I'll pop over there and fetch it, but before I do, there's something I need to say while I've got the nerve," he said and took a deep breath. "If your dad had walked in ten seconds later, he would have found me snogging you senseless. It was all I could think about during supper. You set me off back at your office, when you took your hair down...and you look adorable with babies...that tattoo...you're so sexy and you don't even realize it."

She smiled shyly. "Sexy huh? So you're saying I should work late and have baby sick on me more often?"

"Tease," he said and backed her against the wall.

Her brows adorably furrowed a fraction. "I am not."

He chuckled. "Yes you are, and I love it. Can I see it?"

_So he thinks I'm a tease? I'll show him tease!_

She looked down and slowly brought her hands to the shirt's first button. She looked up at him through hooded eyes as she slowly unfastened the first button. When she placed her fingers on the second button, he quickly licked his lips. Her eyes never left his as she slowly unfastened all the buttons. She casually shrugged the shirt off and turned around.

"Do you see it now?" she drawled.

The last remnants of his self control snapped at her impertinent question.

* * *

At her own home, Ginny set a stool in front of the fireplace to place a floo call to Hermione. She opened the connection and leaned in. A few seconds later she snatched her head back, squealed and clapped. Wayne lowered his paper.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"They were snogging and her shirt was off!" she exclaimed.

"Who?"

"Hermione and Harry!"

**


	8. Chapter 8

She covered her mouth and yawned again. Sleep was non-existent the night before, but this time it was for a good reason, she concluded. Harry had indeed snogged her senseless. _And shirtless_, she thought with an amused snort. The clerk at the reception desk paused outside of her door and knocked.

"Yes?" she asked and the clerk opened the door.

"Mr. Malfoy is here to see you, Miss Granger."

She frowned and flipped through her planner and saw no appointment with Malfoy that day, or any day for that matter. _It must be important enough for him to just drop in and ask for me._

"It's alright, show him in," Hermione said and closed a file she was reviewing.

Malfoy strolled in and sat in a chair she was pointing at. He took his time taking off his cloak and placed it on the chair next to him.

"Morning, Granger. I would have made an appointment, but this will only take a few minutes and it's important," he said.

"Okay, a few minutes of importance, go ahead," she said.

"That vocational agency across from Gringotts placed Goyle as a Watch Wizard at Malfoy Corporate Towers," he said. "I'd like to know more before a decision is made."

"As a potential employer, that's information you're entitled to," she said and pressed a button and spoke into a device on her desk. "Clarice? Could you bring me the Goyle case file? And postpone my ten o'clock...just book the next available time, thanks," she said and gestured to a table in the corner. "Tea?"

"No thank you," he replied. "I see you've done well for yourself here."

She nodded. "I enjoy my work here."

"Beats were-rabbits, huh?" he asked with a rakish grin.

Clarice came in with a file, blushing when Malfoy winked at her.

"Am I ever going to live that down?" she mumbled and opened the file. "Goyle...found guilty on September 4, 1998 and sentenced to Azkaban for Death Eater related crimes. Caused no problems while imprisoned and was released on parole two weeks ago," she said. "He lives at his mother's residence, reported here yesterday, and left in hopes of getting a job and a telly. I'll see him again in six months. That's it."

She closed the file.

"He's caused no trouble since his release, and I believe him to be sincere about resuming life in a normal manner."

He nodded his head. "That's all well and good, but...how was he?"

She understood what he meant. "He developed no debilitating physical problems, aside from slight malnutrition during imprisonment. The Mind Healer declared him mentally fit upon release and he seemed perfectly fine while I was talking to him."

"So in your professional opinion, he would be suitable for employment at my corporate towers as a Watch Wizard?"

"Yes, entirely suitable."

He rose and took his cloak. "Thanks for your time, Granger."

"Glad to help," she quipped and made some notes in the file.

He walked to the door and turned around. "Hey, would you like to join me for lunch?" he asked.

She dropped her quill. "Pardon?"

"Me-you-lunch?" he asked, amused at her surprise.

"Thanks for the offer, but I already have a lunch date," she replied.

"Oh...okay...maybe another time, good day," he said and left the office.

* * *

After a cold, rainy morning in Wales, Harry rushed to join Hermione in time for lunch. He bought some flowers from a vendor in the Atrium and went to the Legal department. In the canteen, he saw that Hermione wasn't at their usual table and that Katie was trying to get his attention. He nodded and waved to people throughout the canteen as he made his way to her.

"She was here for a bit, but she took her lunch back to her office," she said.

"Did something happen today?" Harry asked.

Katie shook her head. "No, nothing out of the ordinary, she just said she would have a working lunch today. Why are you all wet?"

"Work stuff, thanks, Katie," he said and left the canteen.

When he got to Hermione's office, he found that she was bent over a penseive, a half eaten sandwich in her hand. She was unaware of his presence. He closed the door, laid the flowers on her desk, and sat in a chair to wait. A few minutes later, a frown appeared on her face and the sandwich fell from her hands. When he crouched to pick up the remains of her chicken salad sandwich, she almost flew out of her chair.

"Bloody hell, you scared me to death! Say something or poke me to let me know that you're there!" she exclaimed and the clip holding her hair above her left ear came loose. "Why are you wet? Is that mud in your hair?"

"Lovely to see you too," he said and kissed her.

When he stepped back, her countenance softened when she saw the flowers on the desk.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to take my dodgy morning out on you," she said and gave up trying to put the clip back in her hair.

She shrugged and removed the other clip. She ran her hands through her loose hair and rummaged in her desk drawer for a rubber band for her hair. She glanced at Harry who was grinning affectionately at her.

"You should leave your hair down more often," he said.

"Well, it would cut down on the hair-pin headaches," she said and started massaging her head.

He rose and went behind her. "Tell me about your dodgy morning, then I'll tell you about my adventure in Wales this morning."

She thought she would melt right there in her chair when he started massaging her scalp. She groaned softly, let her hands fall to the sides and leaned her head back on the chair. Harry was pleased at her reaction.

"Fer...Malfoy dropped by this morning, unannounced. Apparently, Goyle was placed for a job at the Malfoy fortifications and he wanted to find out about his parole," she said. "When he was leaving, he asked me out to lunch. How bizarre was that?" she asked.

Harry had stopped massaging and his hands were resting on her shoulders. She reached up and patted his hands.

"Don't worry, I told him I already had a lunch date."

She continued the conversation.

"Then my boss asked me to look at some of the Archer trial through pensive memory. Some of it was alarming, which is really something considering all that I've seen."

She looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"I can't believe that slick git asked you out," he said. "Why would he ask you out? He has a dozen women at his beck and call."

She shrugged his hands off her shoulders. "Gee Harry, what a nice thing to say, makes me feel really special," she said dryly.

He turned her chair around. "That came out wrong." _Why do I get so tongue-tied around her?_

She crossed her arms and glared at him. He ran his hands through his mud-spotted hair.

"Hermione, I'm going to be honest with you. When word gets around that a single, fabulous witch is available," he said and nodded toward her, "it's like a small war among the wizards here at the Ministry. I know of at least eight blokes who are just waiting for their chance with you. Some of them you know."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Dean, McLaggan, and Corner are the top three."

Alarmed, she looked out of the blinds of her office and shut them quickly. "I had no idea! McLaggan, ugh! He's just as vile as was in school, if not more so! Dean is alright...and Corner? I don't even know him."

She looked at Harry, still behind her chair. "Harry, I don't want to be asked out by anyone."

His face fell. She jumped from the chair.

"Wait! Shit, that came out wrong! I want to be with you...that's what I meant! I thought you wanted that too, after last night," she said, a furious blush on her face. "Harry, you just get me so...so...flustered!"

"In a good way, I hope?"

"Yes, in a good way."

"You get me flustered too, but way worse. Again, I'm going to be honest with you, because that's best with you. I'm sorry for what Trace did to you, but I'm glad he's gone. No one is good enough for you, not even me."

"Harry, that's absurd! In fact, I sometimes think that you're out of my league!"

_Didn't I tell Molly that about myself?_ he thought.

"Harry, I've known you for so long, and I've loved you like a brother. No one, aside from my parents, knows me better than you." She wrung her hands together to gather her thoughts. "Now I'm shifting those feelings to love you as more than a brother," she said. "When you kissed me last night, I didn't want to stop. When you left, I was thrilled that you kissed me but I wondered why in the world you would. Why now, after all these years?"

"What a silly thing for you to wonder about," he said, taking her hand and leading her back to her chair. "Over the years, I've watched you grow more beautiful, more powerful, more..._wonderful_ and I ached inside at the thought of you with others. Ron's my best mate, but I never really believed he was the one for you. The other blokes too."

She pressed her hand to his cheek. "You should have said something."

"Like I said, you grew more wonderful and I just stayed the same scruffy old Harry."

She chuckled. "You clearly don't see yourself as the rest of us do," she said.

"I could say the same for you," he said.

She laid her hands on his chest. "Okay, let's just both agree that we fancy each other and quit worrying about why we do," she said.

"Good plan, we just go with it," he said.

The Legal Department as a whole watched Harry leave her office, whistling and shaking out his cloak. Katie went to Hermione's office. Her hair was slightly mussed, lips swollen and red from kissing and she was rearranging her blouse.

"Was your working lunch a productive one?" she asked lightly.

"Very much so," Hermione said, cleared her throat and smiled indulgently. At the end of the day, Harry escorted Hermione from the Ministry, a possessive hand at the small of her back as they made their way through the teeming crowd. He caught the eyes of various wizards in challenge. This was the way of things, he thought. He had to send a message to any other males that this stunning female was with him. Any challengers that thought to come her way had better come prepared to deal with him. He was playing for keeps.

* * *

Four days later, _The Daily Prophet_ society section posted the first photograph of them together. The caption, entitled _**"Wizarding World's Newest Super Couple!"**_ made Hermione spray her morning tea across her desk. The night before, she and Harry enjoyed a night at the cinema followed by tea and cake at a sidewalk cafe. The photographer caught a shot of Harry feeding Hermione a bit of cake, when she had playfully nibbled his fingers.

"Of course they would print that moment," she mumbled.

They had the advantage of being Muggle-raised and could easily transition between a night on the town in the Muggle or magical world. She heard a knock on her doorframe. Harry poked his head in the office.

"I know it's a newspaper lacking actual news, but it does have its uses," he said and took a seat.

"Well, sensationalism sells," she said and wiped the tea from her desk.

He held up a letter. "Got a letter from Teddy."

"And how is Ravenclaw's newest member finding life at Hogwarts?" she asked.

"Thanks to you, life will better for him than it was for his father," Harry said and handed her the letter.

In her time with the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, one of her accomplishments was that of ensuring the rights and privileges of wizards and witches affected by lycanthropy. Teddy showed no signs of being affected, but the stigma of having a werewolf father would have made life more difficult for him if not for the _Lycanthropic Citizens Protection Act of 2001._

She finished the letter and gave it back. "He's really enjoying Transfiguration."

"Naturally," Harry said.

While Teddy may not have inherited werewolf characteristics, he did inherit his mother's abilities. He wasn't as flamboyant as his mother, but was more studious like his father. Minerva had already written to Andromeda that her grandson was the most talented first year Transfiguration student, which was really something since Minerva didn't hand out praise easily.

"I want to make supper for you at my place tonight. It'll be just the two of us, Ron's gone for a few days," he said.

"I'd like that," she said.

**


	9. Chapter 9

_A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg, although he knows that you are slightly cracked. _Bernard Meltzer

* * *

At Grimmauld Place that night, Hermione took a bite of the honey-baked chicken cutlet in surprise.

"This is good!" she said.

He held up a cookery book. "Your mum let me use it."

"I'll be sure to thank her," she said and took another bite.

"Did you get new wallpaper in here?" she asked.

"Yeah, decided to brighten up the place a bit. Some of the other rooms too."

The Blacks had kept a rather dark and gloomy home, and if Hermione ended up spending as much time there as he hoped, he wanted it to be a bit more cheerful and colorful.

"Oh, by the way, I got this today," he said and gave her an elegantly adorned envelope.

"I think I got one of those too, I just haven't looked through my stack of posts yet," she said.

He opened it and read:

**Join us if you dare for an All Hallows scare!  
Ghoul's Night Out will be undertaken  
at Nine P.M. on October 31, 2009**

**Malfoy Manor, North Wiltshire, UK Costumes encouraged**

"I got an invite last year, but I was in hospital," she said.

"And I was on an investigation," he said. "Ron and Ginny went, said it was a smashing party."

"I'll think about it," she said and continued her supper.

"Want to stay and watch _EastEnders?_ It's almost time," he said.

"Absolutely, I haven't been able to see it the past two weeks," she said.

When they went to the library, she gasped in surprise.

"Wow, you really refurbished this room! It's very welcoming! That bookshelf looks great by the bay window!"

While she made herself comfortable on the couch, he offered her something to drink.

"Hmm...do you have any of that sweet dandelion wine?" she asked.

"Dark or light?" he asked.

"Dark," she said and he poured her a cup. He poured himself a bit of whiskey and sat with her.

"This is good," she said.

"Only the best spirits in this house," he said.

During the opening credits of the programme, the lights flickered and went out.

"Be right back," Harry said and tried the lights around the ground floor.

"Electricity's out," he said. "Old house, old wiring. Next thing to get repaired."

She flicked her wand and candles around the room lit and the fireplace came to life. She scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I like this," she said and shifted.

When her elbow nudged his side, he winced but said nothing. She pulled back.

"What? Did I hurt you?" she asked.

"Got a little banged up this morning in Wales," he said and lifted his shirt.

She gasped. "That bruise is as big around as a quaffle! Have you had it looked at?"

She ran her fingertips over a large bruise that covered his left chest and side. He shuddered.

"Sorry," she said and made to move her hand away, but he gently grasped her wrist.

"I forget about the pain when you do that," he said and laid her hand where it was.

"When I do this?" she asked and ran her fingertips around the bruise again.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice shaking.

_Hmmm_...She moved her hand to caress his sharply cut abdomen muscles. _Very nice._

His stomach twitched in response. She cocked her head to the side when she noted that he wore jeans that rode low on his hips, exposing the patch of hair that trailed below the waistband. When she gently raked the fine hair, he groaned. His chest was heaving and he was clutching a couch pillow.

"Tease," he whispered and drew her closer, not at all shy about his intention to once again snog her senseless.

Like last night at her parent's house, she didn't want to stop. Harry felt good, smelled good, and caressed her perfectly, as if he read a book beforehand titled "Where To Touch Hermione." _If this is how good he's at kissing, I can only imagine just how good he is at--_

All rational thought happily vacated her brain when he pulled her onto his lap and his mouth moved to her neck. She didn't care when he tore open her shirt, buttons flying every which way, and buried his face between her breasts. The passionate interlude was broken when they were startled out of their wits by breaking glass and a voice that called "Lumos!" at the library door.

"Oh bugger! Sorry, you two!" Ron blurted and a feminine voice behind him giggled.

The lights flickered and came back on. Harry quickly covered her with her shirt and the two glared at him, Hermione in particular. The hair on the back of Ron's neck rose when he saw the look on Hermione's face. The last time she looked at him like that was the day she broke up with him, when he told her that _"a wet fish could kiss better than you!"_ It wasn't true, she was quite good at it, but a bloke has to say something useful to save face when he's being dumped.

"_I-thought-you-said-that-you-were-going-to-be-gone-for-a few-days,_" Harry ground out.

"Change of plans," Ron mumbled, looking everywhere but at the couch.

"Yeah, us too," Harry said and took Hermione's hand. "Come on, love, let's go back to your place."

"Gladly," she said and summoned her cloak to the library, smirking when the inkpot in the pocket knocked Ron on the back of the head. The force of their Apparition was so strong that the candles around the room were extinguished.

* * *

**Later that night...**

"Ginny, I'm going to murder your brother," Hermione declared and flopped down on her bed, telephone in hand.

Ginny sighed in exasperation. _"What did he do now?"_ she asked, knowing that Hermione could only be talking about Ron. She would never call and say that she was going to murder Bill or George.

Hermione explained what happened at Grimmauld Place and Ron's unexpected appearance.

_"Classic Ron,"_ Ginny said.

"Ginny," she whinged, "we were so close to shagging right there on the couch! It's been over a month since I've had any sex! It would have been _so good!_"

_"Hermione, I know that we're the best of friends and we talk about men a lot, but I feel uncomfortable talking to you about sex with my former boyfriend. You sound frustrated, so the best thing I can tell you is..."_

There were a few moments of silence on the other end.

_"...I don't know what to tell you."_

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I am frustrated, about everything; I just can't seem to catch any kind of break lately."

_"I think even your cat can tell that you're frustrated. Take a sleeping draft and get a good night's sleep."_

"A sleeping draft is the only way I'll get any sleep, I'm so keyed up."

_"Must go, crying baby."_

"All right, tell the babies good night from me."

_"I will, bye."_

* * *

The next morning, an owl arrived at her flat instead of Harry.

_**Love-**_

_**Sorry I couldn't see you to work this morning, I had to take a team back to Wales. You'll probably hear more about it today when we bring in the suspects. Despite the untimely interruption, I thought that last night was fantastic. Again, I'm going to be honest and tell you that you're the sexiest thing to come into my world and that I wanted you so bad last night. Ron's been kicking around the idea of getting his own place for a while, and I think last night might have convinced him.**_

_**Did you have a hard time getting to sleep as much as I did? When I say hard, I mean it literally. Was that funny? I'm not sure, because I don't think I'm that funny in letters. Hell, am I funny in anything? Anyway, do good things today and hopefully I'll be through in time to take you home.**_

_**Yours,  
Harry**_

"No Potter escort this morning?" Katie asked as Hermione was hanging her cloak.

"No, he had to take a team to Wales first thing this morning," she replied, smiling at the "Potter escort" comment.

"Hermione, I know that we were only acquaintances at Hogwarts, and that you've only been here in Legal for a year, but if you ever need to talk, I'm here," Katie said.

Hermione sighed and sat down at her desk. "I'll probably take you up on that offer, I spend more time with you than anyone else, did you know that?"

"You poor thing," Katie said.

"Don't say that! You're perfectly lovely to be around," Hermione said. "Tell you what, today we'll take an early lunch and talk about something other than work, what do you say?"

"Sounds great," Katie said.

**

They went to lunch at The Leaky Cauldron, where Hermione was surprised to learn from Katie that Hannah Longbottom had bought the pub two weeks prior.

"That's why it looks different, not so dodgy," Hermione said. "This stew tastes better too."

She was also surprised to learn that Katie was an only child of only children, much like Hermione had been until a year ago.

"I have a one year old sister," Hermione said and took a picture from her clutch.

"She looks just like you," Katie said. "How old are your parents?"

"53 and 51."

"Still at it at their age? Good for them," Katie said with a grin. "Do you spend much time with her?"

"Yes, when I can pry her away from mum and dad. I kept her last weekend when they went away to a dental convention. She terrorized my cat and tossed my mobile into the toilet."

"Any magic?" Katie asked.

"Doesn't look like it, mum says I was doing odd things when I was her age, but not Evelyn."

"Pretty name."

"It was my grandmother's name, a normal name, thank goodness. What were they thinking with me?"

"Come on, you've got a unique name," Katie said. "You wouldn't be you without it. Can you imagine anything other than Hermione J. Granger on your chocolate frog card? When people ask you to sign their cards, do you write out the entire name?"

"God no, I just write H. Granger. I still can't believe that I'm on one of those cards and that people ask me to sign them. My parents think it's priceless. They went with me to Diagon Alley once and a little girl ran up to me and asked me to sign her card. My mum was shocked and asked me just how famous I was."

As if on cue, a boy approached their table and held out a chocolate frog card for Hermione to sign.

"What's your name?" Hermione asked.

"Alastor," the boy replied.

Hermione paused and looked at the boy. "Really? I knew someone named Alastor."

"Is it true that you rode on a dragon?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, and it was very scary," she said.

"Wicked!" the boy exclaimed.

"Yes...well...of course," Hermione said and gave the autographed card back to him.

"Bye, Miss Granger!!"

The boy scampered away and a server brought their pudding.

"Enough about me, what about you? Why aren't you playing Quidditch? You were quite good," Hermione asked.

"The beginning of my seventh year, a scout from the Holyhead Harpies contacted me. Do you remember that try-out, the one with Ron and McClaggen? The scout was in the stands and I was so excited! That is, until I learned that the offer was for an undetermined amount of time on the reserve squad."

"Would that have been so bad?"

"Oliver Wood was on the reserve squad for Puddlemere for four years. Yes, it's that bad. However, that unfortunate event my seventh year changed my mind about what I'd do with my life. I only have one regret, but I still have some time to work on it."

She took a bite and waved at someone that walked in.

"And?" Hermione asked.

"And what?" Katie returned.

"The regret you're still working on?"

"That I've put my work ahead of my personal life. I don't know how much more I can take of my mum harping me about it."

"My mum was on me about it for a while too, until she got pregnant. Their own baby helped to curb the grandbaby harping."

"I can just imagine what my mum would say if I suggested she have a baby," Katie mused and returned to the conversation. "You do want babies, don't you?"

"Oh yes, very much. I really thought that Trace was the one for that. Guess I was wrong."

Katie looked at her watch. "Damn, we're so late! Lunch ended over a half hour ago!"

* * *

By the end of the day, Harry hadn't returned from Wales. She closed her office and picked up some fish and chips on the way home. By nightfall, Harry never called. _Odd, he always calls._ She started to worry and called Grimmauld Place. Ron answered.

_"Hey, I'm sorry about the other night,"_ he said.

"Ron, I don't care about that right now. Have you seen or heard from Harry?"

_"No, but sometimes his missions last a while. Don't fret too much."_

"Okay, good night."

_"Night, Mione."_

After a shower, the doorbell sounded. She slipped on a dressing robe, went quickly to the front door and looked through the peephole. It was Harry. She opened the door and was almost tackled with a hug. He pulled back and she noticed a fresh cut on his forehead and a forlorn look in his eyes.

"What happened?" she asked.

He pulled her close again and buried his face in her hair.

"I lost an Auror today," he said, his voice choked. "We were ambushed...came so close to not seeing you again, touching you..."

She pressed her face against his chest and hugged him harder. "I'm so sorry, what can I do?"

"You're doing it," he said and took her face in his hands. "You're doing it by being alive and well and beautiful and looking at me with those big, gorgeous eyes," he said and took her breath away with the intensity of his kiss, moving to suckle on her neck while fumbling with the tie on the dressing robe.

_"Want to feel you...need to feel you,"_ he gasped and slid his hands inside of the robe.

_"Yes, feel me,"_ she urged, as breathless as he was.

He slipped off the robe to reveal her in a black satin cami and thong.

_"Perfect,"_ he whispered and carried her bridal-style to her bedroom.

**

**Chapter End Notes:**

Isn't the internet a wonder? I'm am American living in Germany, but I can go on the internet and find the television schedule for BBC One and see that yes, EastEnders played on Thursday nights in October. I love Merlin, by the way.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Chapter Notes: **_Just when you think you know a person..._

The first part of this chapter rates a STEAMING KEYBOARD ALERT and brings to mind why there are content warnings in story summaries. If you are under the age of 18 or are sexually prudish and/or repressed (poor you), the first part of this chapter is not for you. All others, happy reading.

* * *

He laid her on the bed and gazed at her writhing in desire for him. He was going to lay claim to her this night and revel in the fact that he was a man very much alive and in love with a woman. He would savor every touch from her, her taste, her scent, and every sound uttered from her delectable mouth. By the time he was done, the previous men would barely be a memory. He would be all she would ever need.

She licked her lips and watched when he drew his trousers down his legs and saw the evidence of his desire for her tenting the silk boxers. His cock twitched when she ran her own hands on her stomach, hips, and breasts.

"Do you like seeing me touching myself?" she asked.

"Do it again," he requested.

She started at her neck, slid her hands slowly over and around her breasts, (taking extra care to palm her nipples, he noted) down her abdomen, and slowly massaged the closely shaved area that was now damp below the barely-there slip of fabric between her thighs.

"Come here, I want to show you something," he said and took her hand.

She rose from the bed and let him lead her to the full-length mirror in the room. He embraced her from behind, suckling on her neck and massaging her breasts as he spoke.

"Look at how stunning you are like this, your body was made to be loved," he said and moved a hand below the waistband of the g-string, causing Her back arched in pleasure. "That man was mad to leave you, but I never will. Let me make love to you tonight, I'll show you how it's supposed to be."

He wiped the happy tears from her cheeks. She had waited so long for a man to say those words to her. He tossed the glasses from his face, causing her to giggle, and brought her back to the bed.

"Next time, you get roses, candlelight and music, but tonight you get just me," he said.

"You're all I want, Harry, just you," she said, caressed his cheek and placed a soft kiss on his chest.

He hooked the g-string with a pinky finger and slowly drew it down, kissing sensitive spots all the way down, and quickly slipped his boxers off. He settled back on top of her, resting on his elbows, his erection heavy and throbbing on her hip. Curious as always, she lowered her hand and took hold of him, causing him to hiss in pleasure when she squeezed and stroked. She experimented with various grips and strokes until he stopped her with his own hand.

"You keep that up and this will be over really quick," he said.

"We can't have that, can we? I don't want quick," she challenged, drew her legs up and nestled him between her thighs.

"What do you want?" he asked and ground his hips against her.

"_You_...slow, hard, and deep," she said.

"Done," he said and thrust into deep and hard as she requested, pumping slowly while suckling her erect, over-sensitized nipples.

_"Don't stop,"_ she gasped, _"more…Harry…"_

She was lost, happily lost in bliss and sensation; back arching, eyes fluttering and mouth slack in wonder at the absolute pleasure he was giving her. He slowed for a moment, took hold of her hips and hunched over her, pumping harder and deeper than before. Her eyes opened wide and she cried out, digging her nails into his back, her hips furiously meeting his and as her climax overcame her.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had never dreamed that she would be so responsive and enthusiastic. He had to stop and kiss the lips that were urging him rather naughtily to make her come again. Such obscenity to come from such a proper (usually) mouth almost made him come right then and there.

_"Why, Miss Granger, that's very dirty,"_ he whispered. Now the question: Just how willing was she? Just how delightfully naughty was she in bed? There was only one way to find out.

"Turn over?" he requested.

_"Yess,"_ she hissed and lay on her stomach.

She felt his impossibly hard cock resting on the back of her thighs and was sure that there wasn't a woman on the face of the Earth as happy as she was at this moment. He was making love to her with perfection and she could only surrender to the demands of their bodies. He softly caressed and kissed her shoulders, back and bum and ground against her again.

"Do you like me fucking you like this?" he asked softly, his lips tickling her ear.

"Yes, Harry, fuck me some more," she groaned and arched her back to make her bum rise. _And he calls me a tease?_

"I'm curious…have you ever been taken in the arse?" he whispered, massaging the area in question.

_"Yes,"_ she breathed.

"Did you like it?" he asked.

_"Yes, fuck yes,"_ she breathed again.

"That's good," he said, inserting the tip of a finger in the puckered opening. "I do plan to fill this arse."

She groaned and pressed back against the finger. Her sweet, good Harry had a naughty streak! He kissed her shoulder again.

"But for now, I just want to get back to fucking this delightful pussy of yours."

He lifted her to her knees and thrust in again to the hilt, arching his back and pulling her into him to get in as deep as he could.

"Fuck!" he shouted to the ceiling and pounded into her, moving a finger into her arse to make it even better for her. On a lark, he slapped her arse. She squealed and asked for more. He shuddered in pleasure as he slapped and felt his climax building.

_"I'm going to come so hard,"_ he gasped.

He gripped her hips and pounded fast and hard, causing her to climax once more, her hips moving to collide with his. He was so powerful like this and she felt like she could do this forever with him. Was it a dream?

"Yes, Harry, come deep in me!" she urged.

He worked her harder, if it was possible, as his climax hit. He roared his satisfaction, hunched over her, grunting his appreciation of her body, furiously pumping each surge of his release. He slowed as he fell, flaccid and lowered her to the bed. He turned her on her back, gently kissing her and telling her how wonderful she was. When he drew the bedcovers over both of them, she sighed in contentment and snuggled closer to him.

He swept the hair from her sleeping, pretty face and gazed at her in happy wonder. He had no idea she would be like this! Had she always been so..._kinky?_ Had she always been so bold behind closed doors? All these years, he thought he knew who Hermione Granger was all about. Brightest witch of her age, beautiful, brave- this all all-around classy woman in public was apparently a freak in the bedroom. Ron, Trace and all the others must have been out of their minds to let her slip through their fingers. He wasn't going to make that mistake. He was playing for keeps.

He woke first to the sound of her soft snores and looked at the clock. It was almost seven a.m. He hated that he to leave the bed and her warm, soft body but his bladder couldn't be ignored. Neither could their jobs. When he left the bathroom, she was curled up with his pillow and looking at him with sleepy, contented eyes.

"Was last night a dream?" she asked.

"If it was, we better not wake up," he said and slid under the covers she held up for him.

"How am I going to get through work today?" she asked and scooted closer to rest her head on his chest. He ran his hands lightly through her hair that was spread out over his chest and stomach. "I just want to stay here in bed with you all day."

"So do I, but we both have important work to do today. We can accomplish the lay about plan tomorrow," he said.

"Believe me, I'd much rather lay here with you than do what I have to do today."

"I'm sorry about what happened," she said. "Who was it?"

"MacMillan," he said. "His Patronus was a boar; it helped drive the Dementors away that day at Hogwarts."

* * *

Despite the somber mood around the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Hermione couldn't help feel that her world was a fair bit brighter that day. _God help me, I love Harry!_ She shuddered when she thought of last night, the single most thrilling sexual experience of her life, bar none. Just when you thought you knew a person! Okay, sex wasn't everything in a relationship, but it sure helped if said sex was good. _No wonder Ginny didn't want to talk about it_, she thought with a chuckle. Katie stuck her head inside Hermione's office.

"Allbright's called a division wide meeting," she said.

The department clerks were setting pots of tea and cups around the table in the conference room. Hermione took a seat next to Katie and thanked Clarice for the tea.

"As you may or may not have heard, one of our brave Aurors lost his life last night in Wales. The suspect was apprehended and sent straight away to Azkaban, as is standard procedure for the murder of an Auror. It's an open and shut case, but we don't want to take any chances. I want a rock-solid conviction on this one; the young Auror in question was at the Battle of Hogwarts from what I've heard. This young hero deserves the best we can give him."

"Who was the Auror?" Katie asked.

"Ernie MacMillan," Hermione said.

"How sad," Katie said.

"You knew him?" Allbright asked.

Hermione and Katie nodded sadly.

"Miss Granger, you're now the lead prosecutor for the case. This morning an Auror will accompany you to Azkaban to present the charges to the accused."

"But, sir, what of the Archer case?" Katie asked.

"That's the second bit of news today. Mr. Archer took his own life last night, so the case is no longer a concern, aside from some administrative loose ends. Miss Granger, you may choose a clerk to assist you with the case and I expect a brief of your case within a week to present to the Wizengamot."

Hermione received claps on the back and handshakes in honor of her first prosecutorial case.

* * *

The secretary for the Head of Magical Law Enforcement ushered Hermione into his office and the procedures for visiting the prison were explained to her by the Head of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Good morning, Mr. Broadmoor."

"Good morning, Miss Granger, I wish we could meet met under better circumstances. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

She nodded and took cup of tea the secretary offered.

"Azkaban no longer hosts Dementors, but the Ministry has instituted security standards that have set the standard for wizard prisons world-wide. The non-magical boat is the only way to arrive at or leave the island. There's double-layered anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards in the prison, on the island, and along the coast for a hundred kilometers. There's no Floo connection on the island or in the prison. All visitors and whatever belongings they bring along are subjected to a strict search, and no magical objects of any sort are allowed in the same room as inmates, except for the wands of the Aurors, Hit Wizards and prison guards."

An Auror entered the office and took a seat next to her.

"This is Auror Brocklehurst, he will accompany you this morning. He's one of our most experienced Aurors, so you're in good hands."

"Brocklehurst? Any relation to Mandy Brocklehurst?" she asked.

"She's my younger sister, I left Hogwarts three years ahead of her."

"How is she?"

"Doing well. She's a Healer at St. Mungo's. She said she saw you when you went in for that were-rabbit thing."

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

Mr. Broadmoor's lips twitched. "As I was saying, Aurors, Hit-Wizards and prison guards are the only ones allowed to have wands on their person while in the prison. As for the prisoners, a magic-dampening charm is applied to them the minute they set foot in the prison, to prevent any kind of magic from being performed. Those accused or convicted of serious crimes, ones that would have rated The Kiss before, are shackled at the hands and feet whenever they leave their cells."

"When do they leave their cells?" she asked.

"For medical attention and their once-monthly visits from direct family or their legal representative. Additionally, they are never given advance notice of visitors and any visits are closely monitored. The only correspondence they are allowed to receive is that from family members or their legal representative, in letter form once a month, on parchment that is thoroughly checked by Charm experts to detect any and kinds of magical tampering. Any questions so far?"

She shook her head.

"Direct contact between yourself and the prisoner is strictly forbidden, and they only speak when spoken to, or they are magically silenced and the visit is terminated. I realize that all of the security procedures are rather extensive and extraordinarily stringent, but we haven't had an escape or an attempted escape since putting the procedures into place. The most dangerous inmates we've ever had now inhabit the prison, so we aren't taking any chances."

"I understand," she said.

**

At lunchtime, Harry went to the Legal Division with two bags of fish and chips take away. Hermione wasn't in her office.

"Mr. Potter?"

He turned to face the department head.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes sir, I'm looking for Miss Granger."

"She's on her way to Azkaban to present charges to the accused for last night's murder."

"So he's being charged with murder? Good. I take it that Hermione is the prosecutor?"

"Yes, she'll do well. I have every confidence in her."

"So do I. Ernie's family will be glad to hear of this," Harry said.

**

Hours later, she and Auror Brocklehurst stood in the boathouse and waited for the arrival of the prison boat.

"It's always raining here and the boat is always late," he complained and cast another warming charm. "Finally, here it comes."

A sleek, fast boat with two outboard motors sped through the waves toward them.

"That's definitely not what I pictured," she said.

He laughed. "Most visitors say that. You were thinking of some old rowboat, am I right?"

**

**Chapter End Notes:**

_**cusp:**_ a point that marks the beginning of a change


	11. Chapter 11

"_Blimey Hermione, did you redecorate?_"

* * *

She and Harry were at supper at The Burrow, recounting the events of the day.

"He was right, I was thinking of some old rowboat," Hermione said.

"I still cannot believe you had to go to that awful place," Molly said.

"I'd say that it's not in my job description, but I looked it up. It really is in the job description," she said. "Although there's no Dementors there, the effect is still the same."

When she shuddered, Harry drew her close and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I should have went with you."

She patted his thigh under the table and fed him a piece of pie. "You're the Head Auror and your place was with the MacMillan family today," she said.

He chewed, nodded, swallowed, and opened his mouth for another bite. She rolled her eyes and fed him another bite. Ginny chortled at them. Molly cleared her throat to tone down the excitement in her voice.

"So, are you two a couple now?" she asked casually.

Harry and Hermione gazed at each other and bestowed the other with a knowing smile.

"Yes," they chorused.

"It's about time," Ron said.

"I agree," Harry said and fed her a bite of pie.

"So, what's everyone's plans this weekend? I've got a local match tomorrow afternoon," Ron said.

"Then I guess we're going to a Quidditch match," Harry said.

"Do your parents know?" Molly asked.

"About a Quidditch match?" Harry asked.

"We're going to tell them at Sunday brunch," Hermione said.

**After supper, Hermione's flat**

"Don't come in yet!" Harry called from the bedroom.

"Harry, I really have to use the loo!"

"Use the one out there!"

"It's broken!"

"Almost done!"

She glanced at Crooks, who was sitting at her feet, waving his tail and looking curiously at the closed door. "At least you have a litter box to use anytime you need to," she said.

"Okay, you can come in!" he called out.

She opened the door, exclaiming, "Thank goodness, I was about to-" she said and stopped when she saw the bedroom. Bouquets of flowers adorned every surface of the room, which was softly illuminated by scented candles placed at select locations about the bedroom. There were even petals on the bed! A CD player was playing her favorite jazz selection and she took in the fragrance of her lavender bubble bath.

"I told you that there'd be flowers, candles, and music the next time," he said and pulled her close to give her a searing kiss. "You've made me a very happy man, Miss Granger."

"And you've made me a very happy woman, Mr. Potter."

"Come, your bubble bath awaits," he said and watched her take off her pant suit and let her hair down.

"No thong today?" he asked when he saw the blue cotton briefs.

She shrugged. "I guess I need to do the wash."

She kicked off the panties, tossed away the bra and groaned when she sank into the fragrant, hot water and bubbles. He handed her a flute of dandelion wine before stripping down and joining her.

"So, how did your visit _really_ go today? I could tell you gave everyone the safe version. Going to that place is never pleasant, even under the best circumstances," he said.

She sighed. "We had to wait three hours for the boat and because of the magic restrictions, I arrived at the prison looking like a wet, shivering rat. The warden, bless his heart, had pity on me and cast a quick drying charm on me before I saw Lancaster. When he arrived, I read the charges and asked if he understood them. His answer was a nod and a well placed ball of spit."

Harry sat straight up. "He spat at you? Maybe it's a good thing I wasn't there, I might have snapped the bastard's neck."

"Well, it's done and the next time anyone will hear from him or see him will be the trial," she said and groaned when he took hold of her foot and massaged the instep.

"Your foot looks like it's swollen," he said.

She nodded. "I twisted my ankle when I stepped from the boat, slipped on the rocks."

"Brocklehurst was supposed to be there to make sure nothing happened to you," he protested.

"There's nothing he could have done about my clumsiness. At least he caught me before I face-planted the ground."

He sighed and ran a bubble-filled hand through his hair. "I _really_ should have been there."

"Move on, love, I have. We have better things to talk about, and what you're doing feels wonderful on my foot," she said.

"Have you picked a costume for the Halloween soiree?" he asked.

"I've narrowed it down to a few choices."

"And?"

"I want to surprise you."

"Ron's going as a sheik. He's taking along a group of fans as his harem," he said.

"You're joking."

"I wish I was. Ow! It hurts when you turn it that way!"

He kissed her foot. "If it still hurts in the morning, I'm taking you to a Healer."

"Harry, my Healer doesn't want to see again me unless he's delivering my baby."

"He told you that? You're joking."

"I wish I was."

He burst out laughing. "Really though, the were-rabbit thing probably tops the weird meter of things that Healers see."

She snatched her foot from his hand and stood up.

"Aww, come on, love, don't be angry."

She stepped from the basin. "I'm not...I'm just...I just wish people would just forget that incident ever happened!" she exclaimed and stomped her foot, forgetting _not_ to stomp the hurt one. "Shit!"

He rose from the basin and summoned a towel for her. "You know what you remind me of?"

"A bushy-haired harpy?"

He rolled his eyes and started patting her dry. "No, you remind me of an angry kitten. A kitten that gets its back up and thinks it's a big, scary lion."

"Meow?" she asked and made a clawing motion at him.

And of course the phone had to ring. She went to the bedside table and answered, then rose to her feet with a horrified look on her face. He quickly moved to her side.

"What?" he asked.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Yes, I'm leaving my flat right now. I love you, see you soon."

She hung up the phone and quickly wiped a tear that fell down her cheek. "My parent's home burned down this evening."

"Are they alright?"

"Yes, they go out safely. They're at the surgery."

She hurried to her wardrobe and took out a jumper and a pair of jeans. "You coming?" she asked.

"Of course I am."

* * *

They were dressed in minutes and due to Friday night traffic, the journey took longer than she cared for. She honked the horn and called out to other drivers several times about their dodgy driving skills. She arrived at Granger Family Dental of West London and ran inside. She tackled them with hugs and smothered the baby with kisses.

"I'm so glad you're all right," she said.

"Why are you limping?" Ian asked.

She waved the question away. "Please, come and stay at my flat until you get things in order," she urged.

"Tonight we will, I can't even think straight right now," Ian said.

"Were you able to get anything out?" Harry asked.

"We got our most important possession out," Grace said and smoothed down the fussy baby's hair.

"You don't have to worry about a thing," Hermione said. "I've got loads of her clothes, the playpen, and a cot at my flat. You two can have my bed, I'll take the couch fold-away bed."

"Can we drive by the house one more time? I want to see if the firemen are finished," Ian said.

"Whatever you want, dad."

When they came to a stop in front of the smoldering remains of the home, Grace burst out in tears. Ian sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"We'll rebuild, poppet," he said and smoothed down his wife's hair.

"Our entire life was in there!" Grace wailed.

Ian took her face in his hands. "Gracie, look around you, our life is here."

She sniffed and looked at her two daughters and husband, then glanced at Harry whose eyes were brimming with unshed tears. Ian broke the somber moment.

"Gracie, look at poor Harry, you've made a grown man cry."

**

At her flat, they first got the baby ready for bed and made sure she was asleep before they did anything else. She was asleep before they finished fastening the baby-grow.

"Okay, the toilet in the corridor bathroom is broken, so you have to use the one in my room," she said. "Mum, I think I have something you can change into. As for Dad...well, I'm a witch, so I can just transfigure something from my stuff."

She stopped at the cupboard next to the bedroom and took out a fresh set of sheets and several towels. She brought the towels to the bathroom and picked up her and Harry's discarded clothing. She left the bathroom and saw her mother staring at her room, her hand covering her twitching mouth.

Hermione was mortified at the scene her mum was trying not to laugh at. In their rush to leave, they left the bedroom as Harry had prepared it. The flowers, the candles, the music, the wine chilling by the bed - Harry's boxers were even hanging from her hand! The uncomfortable silence was broken by her dad's voice from the door way.

"Blimey, Hermione, did you redecorate?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Hermione replied.

Harry came into the bedroom and took the clothes from her. Ian's eyes dawned in understanding when he saw the boxers and his wife choking back her laughter.

"Oh bugger, we interrupted something, didn't we?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it, dad," Hermione said, Harry nodding quickly in agreement. "Love, where's my wand?"

"Uh...here on the basin," Harry said and handed her a dripping wand. "I'll just head to that 24 hour Tesco and get some things."

**

When Harry returned with three full bags, he saw the couch-bed laid out and Grace sitting at the table with a cup of tea. The shower was heard and Hermione was in the second room, the baby in her arms.

"This bag is the baby's stuff," he said and took toys, food, and milk from the bag.

Grace moved to the counter and helped put the things away. "You look like you know what you're doing."

He shrugged. "I took care of my godson a lot when he was a baby."

"How old is he now?"

"Eleven, he started Hogwarts this year."

He saw Hermione trying to get his attention.

"Excuse me," he said and went to the other room.

Grace heard the two softly talking and stood close to the doorway. She knew she was eavesdropping, but the two were so endearing together that she couldn't help herself.

"I don't know who's prettiest, the baby or the woman holding the baby," he said.

"The baby of course," Hermione said.

Gracie smiled at the comment.

"They could have come to my place, you know. It has loads more room," he said.

"I know, this place isn't much larger than a bed-sit," she said. "I just thought they needed as much familiarity as possible."

"You should have seen your face," he said, amusement tinting his voice.

"Didn't dad just top it all? Redecorate indeed," she said ruefully.

"Yeah, with you holding my day-of-the-week boxers."

**

Ian and Grace settled in the bed after Hermione was assured that they were comfortable and had everything they needed.

"It smells like a flower shop in here," Ian said.

Grace chuckled and laid her head on his chest. "Well, there were certainly enough flowers in here to supply a shop."

"Looked like an overdone honeymoon suite," he said. "Are you sure the sheets are changed?"

Grace tittered. "Yes, dear, I saw her do it."

**

She was backed against the kitchen counter, his hands inside her dressing robe, kissing her heatedly.

"You don't have to go," she said, giving his earlobe a nip and his bum a squeeze.

He groaned quietly. "Tonight it's for the best. I'm not sure how they'd react to me staying here and after what they've been through-"

"You're too good to be true," she said and stopped any further words with a kiss.

His hands resumed their previous fondling, pleased to find her aroused. And here they were in the kitchen of all places! He was hard as a rock in his jeans, and wouldn't it be brilliant if she...no, she wouldn't just drop to her knees and suck his cock, would she? They were in the kitchen, he was dressed, and her parents were just down the corridor!

"Hermione, would you..." he started and stopped, adjusting the crotch of his pants.

"Would I what?" she asked, knowing good and well what he wanted. It turned her on, even more than she already was, to think that he wanted it right there, right now. She nipped his earlobe again and whispered, "Harry, you never need to be afraid to ask me for anything."

He nodded and swallowed. She licked and nipped where his throat bobbed.

"Suck my cock?" he asked.

He felt the warm breath of her chuckling at his throat. "Love, you're not a child asking for a biscuit. Try again," she challenged. "Make it good."

Well, when she put it that way...

"_I want to pump my cock in and out of that smart mouth of yours,"_ he whispered fiercely.

She smiled coquettishly and unbuttoned his pants. "Do you want your sac to hit my chin?" she casually asked and drew his zipper down.

"Yes," he growled when she grasped the length of him and he pulled her close. "I love you like this. It's almost unbelievable, a dream come true."

"Are you turned on as much as I am?" she asked and pulled his pants down enough for his tented erection to emerge.

"More than I've ever been in my life, I've never been with anyone like this," he said, his erect cock bobbing in front her face.

When she ran delicate fingertips along the length of him, he shuddered and thrust his hips. She kissed the tip and ran tip of her tongue around the head. He groaned and thrust his hips again. She engulfed him in her mouth, slowly working him bit by bit until he indeed felt his balls on her chin. She next performed a sucking maneuver that could only have been accomplished with magic, he was sure of it. He gasped and had to hold on to the counter for support. It had been so long, too long, since someone had done this for him and here she was, doing it willingly and perfectly. She sucked, licked, and bobbed eagerly back and forth, making him rise on his toes when he hit the back of her throat. He buried his hands in her hair and closed his eyes, thinking of the picture they made. She on her knees and he literally fucking her mouth, hips pumping and moaning as she fluttered her tongue. This was what she was looking for. She loved the look on his face, a look of ultimate pleasure as he lost himself to the experience. She had a burst of feminine pride that she was performing this well for him, that she could him feel this good.

"You like sucking my cock, don't you?" he gasped.

She looked up at him and winked and drew him closer, wrapping her hands around his hips and sucking him off even harder, if that were possible.

_"I'm coming,"_ he whispered through clenched teeth, marveling at how deep he was down her throat, _"Suck harder!"_

She did so and felt him grip her hair harder and buck his hips into her mouth. She held tighter as he gasped, wheezed and jerked his release into her mouth. She continued to suck as he fell flaccid, causing his over-sensitized cock to twitch and he felt weak in the knees.

"Feel better?" she asked and released him with one last soft lick.

"Makes me wish that there was a potion that'll make me hard again," he replied and helped her to her feet.

She looked at him curiously. "Harry, you either work too much or..."

"Not a spectacular sex life," he finished.

"There are elixirs for wizards with erectile dysfunction, but plenty of wizards use it for fun, like getting hard again. You didn't know that?"

Harry could only blink so she slapped his bum to get his attention. "If you're leaving, go now, it's late and the baby gets up early."

**

Chapter End Notes:

Couldn't help the boxers part, my husband has some and they are a riot! Love is a great thing when you can just sit in a tub and talk with your honey.


	12. Chapter 12

Another enlightening day...

* * *

**Saturday, October 17**

Ian and Grace emerged from the bedroom to find Hermione still asleep, sprawled out on the couch-bed. The baby was awake in her cot, playing with a stuffed mouse that Harry had bought the night before. She giggled and waved her arms when she saw her parents. Ian quickly moved to quiet her while Grace continued to the kitchen for tea. There was a quiet knock on the door. Grace looked through the peephole and saw that it was Harry. She opened the door and quietly welcomed him inside.

"I was about to get some breakfast going," she said.

Light scratching on the door and a loud "meow!" was heard. Harry opened the door and Crooks went straight for his food bowl, only to see it empty and look at the humans with a haughty _"pardon me, but where's my food?"_ look. With his nose, Crooks bumped a lower cupboard next to the fridge.

"He prefers the creamy salmon," Hermione's sleepy voice said from the couch.

She slid her flannel-covered legs to the floor and mumbled an ouch.

"Still hurt?" Harry asked and crouched to examine her foot.

She nodded and yawned.

"After breakfast, you get to see a healer," he said.

"On a Saturday?" Grace asked.

"What happened?" Ian asked.

"I twisted my foot yesterday when I went to the prison," Hermione said.

"What the devil did you have to go to a prison for?" Ian asked.

"To present charges to a murder suspect," Hermione said and held up her hand to stop the questions she knew were coming. "Wizarding law is different from Muggle law."

**

An hour later, Hermione and Harry left St. Mungo's, she leaning on a cane and numbing brace adorning her foot.

"Thank goodness my Healer wasn't on shift today," she said. "I need to head to Gringotts before the apothecary."

"Hang on," he said, Apparating the both of them.

Seconds later, they stood before the towering building that was Gringotts. She hobbled up the steps, through the doors and went to the nearest goblin bank teller.

"I would like to make a withdrawal," she requested politely.

The goblin peered at them carefully, recognizing the two before him as one of the three who "invaded" (the general goblin opinion) their bank and broke out (literally) all those years ago. Only after Harry paid for a new watch-dragon and public apologies from the trio, were they allowed to step foot in the bank again.

"Wand, if you will," the goblin drawled.

She presented her wand, tapped it on a small marble globe and waited. The globe glowed and the goblin nodded.

"Amount of withdrawal?" the goblin asked.

"Ten galleons please," she said.

The goblin spoke in Gobbledegook to the marble. It glowed and seconds later ten gold coins appeared.

"Statement of your balance?"

"Yes, thank you," she said.

The goblin huffed at her polite manner and withdrew a large, leather bound book that had a single rune on the cover that she recognized at the rune for the letter _G._

"Tap the rune with your wand."

She did so, a page from the book glowed, and a small sheet of parchment appeared next to the galleons. She took the galleons and statement, frowning at a particular figure.

"Is something amiss?" the goblin asked.

"Just lost a bit on some investments is all," she said and the two made to leave.

"Gringotts investment advisors are present on Mondays and Thursdays," the goblin said.

"Thank you," she said and they left the bank.

"Grumpy buggers," Harry said when they were back outside.

* * *

At the apothecary, Hermione stood in line to pay for her pain elixir, muscle relaxant balm, and birth control potion while Harry browsed the aisles. When she finished, she scanned the covers of the various tabloids by the door while Harry continued browsed the aisles. He caught her eye, held up a bottle and made his way to her.

"It took you that long for.." she said and looked at the bottle, "mouthwash?"

"I was looking for something else, but it's not here."

"What were you looking for? Maybe it's at another shop."

He leaned closer to her and whispered, "You know that stuff you were telling me about last night? "

She looked at him for a few moments and grinned. "Love, you won't find that at any apothecary. You can only get it from a Healer."

"What? You mean that blokes go and tell another bloke that they can't..._get it up?"_ he asked.

Some customers looked at him curiously. There was no way he would go to a Healer and say that. First off, it wasn't true, and to go to a Healer and say that just because he wanted...

"Like I said, some do go and fib for the potion," she said and plucked one of the tabloids from the stand. "However, there are alternatives, while not quite what you're looking for, do come close. "

She gave him the tabloid. "Pay for this with your mouthwash, I'm not talking about this here."

When they returned to her flat, she found her mum picking up around the place and her dad changing Evelyn's diaper.

"Mum, you don't have to do that," she said and took a seat at the table.

"We're the reason for it, so we'll help out," Grace said. "What's the prognosis?" she asked.

"Sprained," Hermione said. "I'll wear this brace, stay off my feet as much as I can, and take the stuff for pain. It'll be fine by Monday morning."

Ian joined them with the baby. "I sprained my ankle last year, took a blooming month to heal."

"Are there magical dentists?" Grace asked.

"Not that I know of," Hermione said.

* * *

After lunch, Harry joined Hermione at her desk. She was doing a crossword puzzle in the tabloid he bought.

"Can we finish what we were talking about earlier?" he asked.

"Are you still on about that?" she asked.

She glanced at her parents who were fascinated by the mid-day _Diagon Alley News_ programme on her Magic Vision television. They were amused by the Muggle and magical television sets sitting next to each other, and the more unique material on the Magic vision.

"That goblin said what?" Ian asked no one in particular.

"Goblins, can you imagine?" Grace commented.

"Let's go to my room," she said.

In her bedroom, they sat on the bed and she flipped the tabloid to the back pages. She read some of the adverts and pointed one to him.

_"Wicked Intentions?"_ he asked.

"It's a Wizarding erotica shop," she said.

"And?"

"Have you ever been there?"

"No. I told you, I haven't had a spectacular sex life."

"Harry, I find that simply hard to believe. You and Ron are young, famous wizards, surely you..."

"No, but that doesn't matter. Tell me about the shop and what it has to do with what we were talking about."

She went to her wardrobe and displayed out a green negligee with matching thong.

"I got this at _Naughty Witches,"_ she said. "They also sell various...things...to enhance sex, make it more fun."

"Sex toys?"

"Among other things."

"I've heard Ron talk about it, but never went-"

"Never went to a sex shop? Harry, you're a 29 year old normal, healthy, sexual male and you haven't been to a sex shop?"

"Someone might see!"

"So what? Who cares if you go to a sex shop? As kinky as you are, why would it bother you?"

"I'm a private person, you know that."

She nodded.

"If I'm as kinky as you say, I suppose it's due to a vivid imagination, a faithful subscription to PlayWizard magazine, and a willing partner," he said. "She's the most willing partner I've ever had. I hope she sticks around, I've got a lot of sex to make up for," he said.

They burst out laughing at the comment.

"Okay, so would you like to go to a shop? We can go together. If it will make you feel more comfortable, we can go to a Muggle sex shop."

"Is your foot up to it?" he asked.

"For this, absolutely."

**

"We're meeting friends for lunch," Hermione said and summoned her cloak. "Will you be alright here?"

"Yes, we rang our insurance agent, we're meeting with him Monday afternoon," Ian said.

"Want anything while we're out?" she asked.

"No, pumpkin, you're doing enough by letting us stay here," Grace said.

"Okay, see you later."

"Take care, pumpkin. You too Harry."

They Apparated to Diagon Alley and took The Leaky Cauldron passage to Charing Cross Road.

"Let's eat first," she said.

At The Burger Shack, Harry gobbled down two triple cheeseburgers and a milkshake while she enjoyed a salad.

After lunch, she led him to a shop called _The G-Spot._

"Clever name," she quipped, took his hand and they went inside.

The clerk at the cash register gave them a lazy nod and continued with whatever she was reading. Harry was looking at a display of negligees similar to the one Hermione had shown him earlier. He took one from the rack.

"This would look smashing on you," he said.

"We also have that in purple," the cashier said.

"Thanks," Hermione said.

Harry held on to the one he was holding and went to a magazine and book display that covered one entire wall. Ron would love this, then again, he's probably already seen this. He spotted a pocket version of the Kama Sutra and flipped through it.

"That's one of the biggest selling erotic books ever," she said and he blinked at her.

She shrugged. "Hey, I'm a bookworm."

He held on to the book and went to a display of brightly-colored bottles.

"Chocolate flavored edible body paint," he read from a label.

"The strawberry is good too," she added.

He plucked a chocolate, strawberry, and cherry bottle from the shelf.

"I'll get a bag," she said.

She returned with a bag to see him reading the back of a tube of some ointment.

"What's that?" she asked.

He held it up and she grinned.

* * *

Harry had to take care of some things at Grimmauld Place, but promised to make it in time for supper.

"And it'll give you some time with your parents, they're probably tired of seeing me," he said.

"Harry, that's silly. They're very fond of you."

"An electrician is supposed to come by the house anyway," he said.

After a searing good-bye kiss, she decided to get busy on the wash and other cleaning she had neglected as of late. Her parents marveled at the mop she charmed in the kitchen while she got the wash together. After laundry, mopping, vacuuming, and cleaning Crook's litter box, she started on supper. When she was rinsing the pasta, Harry returned.

"Welcome back," Hermione said and set the table. "What did the electrician say?"

"He said it'll take 3 weeks to update the wiring instead of a month like the others, and his estimate was lower than the others," he said. "He starts Tuesday."

While waiting on the electrician, he also started on the Kama Sutra, picturing Hermione in place of the woman in the pictures. At one picture, he had to turn the book sideways and wonder just how flexible Hermione was. With a pleasant ache in his cock, he examined the tube of Maximum Wood. Apparently, this product was a lotion applied to a cock to maintain a longer lasting erection and had a pleasant, minty taste. _Well, that's convenient._

That evening, he sat at the table with Hermione, her parents and a baby, with a delicious plate of shrimp pasta in front of him. All he could think about was licking chocolate flavored body paint off Hermione's breasts. Would supper ever end?

**


	13. Chapter 13

When the supper dishes were cleaned and the baby was down for the night, Hermione wished her parents a good night.

"It'll probably be late when I return," she said and took Harry's arm. _Make that tomorrow morning._

The force of Harry's Apparition made the flat's lights flicker. At Grimmauld Place, he showed her the finishing touches of the library's refurbishment.

"New marble on the fireplace and I finished the wallpapering there around the bay window," he said. "My room's done too."

"Come on, let's see it then," she said.

In his room, she admired the beige and dark green of the walls, drapes, carpeting, and bed covering.

"I love what you've done in here, no wallpaper," she said.

"Painting's kept me busy when I've had a lot on my mind," he said.

She saw the negligee they bought earlier hanging from the en-suite door.

"I'd like to see you in it," he said. "It goes with your eyes."

She winked, went inside, and closed the door so that she could make an entrance for him. While making an entrance was not a big deal to her, it was for him. She put on the negligee, tousled her hair, and pinched her cheeks to redden them. Harry was sitting on the bed, nude, and stroking himself when she emerged from the en-suite. He realized that he didn't need to be embarrassed to do it around her.

"Starting without me?" she asked, licking her lips.

"Do you like to watch me do this?" he asked.

She nodded and took a seat on the bed next to him, running her hands along his thighs as he stroked. "You have a large, beautiful cock," she said matter-of-factly.

That was the first time a woman had ever told him that. Amazing! All he had to do was mention or display his member, and her sex switch turned on.

"Touch yourself, I want to see you touch that amazing body," he said.

"As you wish," she said and scooted back.

She spread her legs, moved the slip of fabric aside, and stroked the moist folds. His cock twitched in his hands when she groaned, let her head fall back, and languidly fondled herself. She wasn't surprised when she felt his hand take the place of her own. The bed shifted and his lips were on her neck.

"Lay down so I can return last night's favor," he said.

She did so and he opened her legs wider, nudging her quim with his nose. The fragrance of her arousal urged him to take a long, slow lick. She hissed and ran a hand along her body.

"Amazing," he said and took another lick.

He saw her clit and massaged it with a finger. She moaned loudly, prompting him to lick and suck the little bud until she was panting and writhing. When he stopped, she raised her head to look at him with hooded eyes. He was staring at her quim like a starving man at a buffet, stroking himself.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, resting on her elbows.

"Deciding what I'm going to do next," he replied.

"Can I suck you while you decide?" she asked saucily.

"You need to ask?" he replied.

She laid back and crooked a finger at him. "Come here, you'll like this."

He crawled up the length of her body and kissed her.

"Take this off, it'll get in the way," she said.

He was going to ask _get in the way of what,_ but why ask a dumb question at a time like this? _Just do what she says!_ He laid the negligee aside.

"Lay it between my breasts."

He read about this in last month's issue of PlayWizard and now he was going to do it! He did and she pressed her breasts around his cock, until his hands took the place of hers. He needed no encouragement and moved his hips back and forth, loving the feel of her soft, full breasts pressing all around him. He was so close to her mouth...She made the next move by grabbing his bum to urge him closer to her face. He realized that he had to lean forward, like he was in a push-up position unless she moved. She did, to take him into her mouth. Instinctively, he pressed his hips forward. Now he understood. She wanted to blow him like this, like he was fucking her mouth. He had no words for this, if talking were possible. This bed, it was heaven. PlayWizard didn't describe this fully. As if it could be any better, she reached up and massaged his sac and the very sensitive skin behind his sac. He looked down and pumped smoothly, steadily as her tongue fluttered around his length, then she took his sac into her mouth. When she dared to put the tip of a finger in his arse, he called out something unintelligible and actually whimpered in pleasure. She was stroking him, his balls were in her mouth, and the rimming felt good, better than he thought it would. Suddenly he wanted his cock to be somewhere else, but he didn't want to move. What she was doing felt too good.

"I want to fuck you," he panted and groaned.

**

Ron Apparated straight to his room after Quidditch practice. He was about to step into the en-suite for a shower when he heard moaning from the next room. He knew that he should cast a silencing charm so he wouldn't hear, but he was bloke who hadn't been laid in a while. _If I can't watch, might as well listen! No one will ever know!_ He cast a charm to amplify the sounds from the next room, took out his cock and started stroking.

**

He summoned the tube of Maximum Wood, hoping it would work like advertised, despite the dumb name. She bit her lip and ran her hands along his thighs as he massaged the ointment on his cock. It made him feel warm and slightly tingly, and could only imagine how it would feel moving in and out of her wet, warm softness. He stood and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Leaning over her, he gave her a heated kiss and opened her legs wider to admire the sight.

"Like what you see?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm going to like this too," he said and thrust in.

He held her legs wide as he thrust in and pulled out, never feeling more like a man than at that moment. He let his head fall back and pumped with abandon, losing himself to the delights of her quim. _This is how it's supposed to be!_ He felt harder and warmer, and her enthusiastic urging and appreciation of his cock made it feel more perfect. He felt the familiar electric sensation from his balls of an impending orgasm, so he slowed and grasped his cock at the base and pumped slower. He wanted more than anything to feel his cock buried in her arse, to the hilt.

_"Want to take your arse, want to drive deep in,"_ he gasped through clenched teeth, still gripping the base of his cock.

_"Yess, drive it deep, take it,"_ she groaned.

**

Ron sat straight up in bed at that and grasped his cock harder. _Hardly any woman let him do that! Harry got to hit that arse? Lucky sod!_

**

He slid behind her on the bed and held her against him, kissing her neck and fingering her arse.

_"I'm going to make this so good for you,"_ he whispered and nudged the head of his cock at her entrance.

Still grasping the base of his cock, he slowly worked his way deep in the tight channel, both of them groaning and panting their pleasure. When he was in to the hilt, he had to stop to catch his breath. How wonderfully tight she was around him! He had never taken a woman in the arse, he wanted to remember the first feeling of it.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" she asked, sucking on his fingers that had somehow made their way to her mouth.

He grunted a response, causing her to smile knowingly. He pulled all the way out and slowly worked his way back in.

"Yes, Harry, take it!" she encouraged.

He urged her on her hands and knees and positioned himself at her arse, slowly working it in, then began pumping in earnest.

"Fuck yes!" she called out and squealed in happy surprise when he started lightly slapping.

**

_Go for the gold!_ Ron thought.

**

Moans, grunts and curses of appreciation filled the air as his sexual dreams came true. Here was a woman who liked to give head and liked to fuck, and he was a man who more than up to the task. He knew he was going to come harder than he ever did, so he pumped faster and harder to bring his climax to a roaring conclusion. He called her name with each surge of his release and found that he was still erect after the climax. He wondered if she came. He wondered how he was still hard. How could he be wondering so much at a time like this? He realized he was stroking himself. _Maximum wood, they're not joking!_ He didn't have to ask if she wanted more. She was lying on her back, touching herself, fingering her folds and clit. He cast a cleansing charm on himself and slid into her quim. She arched her back and called out to him. He didn't know how this was possible, that he could still do this for her, so he quit thinking and did it for as long as it would last. He gasped and moaned with her, marveling when she quieted for a moment and exploded in climax. He encouraged her pleasure, slapping against her as she climaxed, her heels digging into his arse, moving her hips with his. When she slowed and quieted, he slid out, laid back and continued to stroke himself. She scooted closer and laid her head on his chest as he stroked. He loved that he could just lay there with her and pleasure himself without feeling self-conscious about it.

**

Ron panted after making himself come harder than he had in a while, listening to Hermione come. He remembered it from when they briefly dated; her orgasms really were a thing of beauty. Harry was a lucky man.

**

"Wow, that stuff really works," she commented.

"Mmmhmm," he replied as he stroked.

"You're really good at this," she said.

"Which part?" he asked, teasing, but felt like thumping his chest and howling in masculine pride.

"All of it," she replied. "I think I'll keep you."

He stroked for a good ten minutes until he finally fell flaccid.

* * *

**The next morning...**

Harry woke early, out of habit, and made to leave the room to bring breakfast back on a tray. She deserved breakfast in bed. Before he closed the door, he looked back at Hermione softly snoring through the sunrise, smiling at yet something else he leaned about her. She was a deep sleeper. He woke, used the loo, dressed, and bumped into a bedside table- and it didn't disturb her slumber one bit. He closed the door softly just in case.

He was preparing eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit when Ron came into the kitchen yawning and stretching. He saw the food and became a little more alert.

"Don't even think about it, this isn't yours," Harry said and tossed a loaf of bread at him. "There's the toaster and there's some tea already made."

Not yet quite alert, the loaf smacked him in the face. "Whipped," he mumbled.

Harry turned to him, a frown on his face. "What did you say?" he demanded.

"In case you didn't hear it the first time, whipped," Ron said.

Harry shook his head in pity and turned back to the cooker. He meticulously arranged the food on the plate, poured a glass of juice and a cup of tea. He conjured a flower from a fork, and put the breakfast and flower on a tray. He stopped and spoke to Ron before he left the room.

"And if you think being called whipped by you makes a difference to me, think again, mate. This is not whipped, this is loving her and wanting to do it for her, simply to make her happy, to see her sleepy smile first thing in the morning. Maybe if you treated women as more than ...holes in your mattress, someone would be bringing you breakfast in bed. As it is, the only woman who loves you is your mother. Think on that," he said and left the kitchen, whistling.

Back in his room, he cast a warming charm on the food, a silencing charm (just in case) and set the tray aside. She was still asleep, so he slid into the bed behind her to wake her gradually. He wrapped his arms around her, drew her closer and kissed her neck, speaking softly to her. She sighed, opened her eyes and stretched. Her back arching and groaning in waking caused his arousal to spike.

"Are you happy to see me or is that a wand poking my bum?" she asked sleepily.

"Well, a different kind of wand," he said and ground against her bum.

"Are you trying to turn me on?" she asked.

"I hope so, is it working?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Yes, mission accomplished. I'm turned on."

"Good," he said and slipped his sleeping pants down. "This is going to be quick, I'm afraid."

He lifted her top leg and thrust in from behind.

"Good morning," he whispered and started slapping against her.

"It is now," she said, moving her hips with his.

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

First off, Ron can be a bit of a git at times. We all know this.

Secondly, although it's good, there will be more going on than the rutting of the past couple of chapters! Many couples experience a wonderful period of discovery, and I just wanted to show that. Now, on to All Hallows Eve and much, much more.


	14. Chapter 14

_A quiet Sunday at home and a mum learns a little more about her daughter's magical life._

* * *

After a rousing but satisfying morning quickie, breakfast, and showering, a letter was slid under the bedroom door as they were dressing.

"Came for you just now," Ron's voice called out.

"Thanks, mate."

"Yeah."

He read the letter and sighed. "I have to go in to work for a bit today, but I'm taking you home first. I'm not a love 'em and leave 'em type of bloke."

"I know, thank you for that," she said and kissed his cheek.

They shared a few minutes of heated good-bye kisses at her doorstep. He stepped back, winked, and disappeared. She sighed and went inside.

"No Harry?" Grace asked from the couch.

"He got called in to work."

"Your father's at the surgery getting some paperwork together."

She took a bottle of water from the fridge and went to her desk. _I can get some work done too._ She planned to present her case brief to her boss Wednesday afternoon, so getting some work done wouldn't be remiss. Grace observed her daughter open her laptop and start typing. She stared blankly at the wall for a moment and continued typing. She paused, glanced at a bookshelf across the living room and extended her arm. A book flew from the shelf toward her. Crooks shot from the corridor and leapt at the book, knocking it to the ground.

"Crooks!"

The cat sniffed the book, and when he was satisfied that he had defeated his prey, slinked toward the playpen. She summoned the book from the floor, read from select pages and she continued typing. Grace marveled at the flawless way her daughter fit in both the non-magical and magical world, and she would be forever fascinated with her adorably quirky daughter's ways. She returned her attention to the Magic Vision telly.

"Pumpkin, when does that _Flights With Dragons_ programme start?"

Hermione chuckled. "Um...not sure, check the programme schedule, number 7."

Grace changed the channel until she came to Quidditch Today. "There's your friend! Goodness, how far along is she?" she exclaimed.

"Six months," she said, summoning another book from the shelf.

"She has other children, doesn't she?"

"Yes, two year old twins. After this one though, I think she's done. She's often said she has no intention of birthing an entire Quidditch team," she said, recalling what Ginny had said with a grin.

The telephone rang. What a coincidence, it was Ginny.

"Were your ears itching?" Hermione asked.

_"Huh?"_ Ginny asked.

"We were just talking about you, mum saw you on the telly."

_"What did you do to him?"_

"I beg your pardon?"

_"Harry! He came here looking for his Auror cloak, and it was like he could fly without a broom."_

Hermione sighed happily. "I know how he feels."

_"Have you two been holed up in the bedr-"_

Hermione glanced at her mum, who was trying a little too nonchalantly not to eavesdrop. She went to her room and shut the door.

"Ginny, do you remember the last time we chatted? About how you didn't want to talk about Harry?"

_"Oh."_

"Exactly, he's an _artist_, like my body's his canvas and his cock's the brush. Now, how's the kids?"

Was Ginny hyperventilating on the other end? Was she in premature labor? Wayne's voice was heard.

_"I don't know what you said to her, but she hasn't laughed like this in a long time."_

"It's girl's stuff, Wayne."

Ginny came back on the line, and Hermione explained what had happened to her parents and how much Harry had been helping out.

_"I'll talk to you later. Tell your parents I said hi."_

* * *

Hermione went back to the living room where her mum had found _Flights With Dragons._

"Fascinating creatures, I simply can't believe you actually rode on the back of one."

Hermione flopped on the couch, realizing that she would get no work done. "Sometimes I can't believe it either. We were criminals at the time, of course."

From her Hogwarts trunk, she took out a large leather binder containing The Daily Prophet editions (courtesy of Luna) from during the war, when the paper was under Voldemort's control. She flipped through the stack until she came to the one she was looking for.

"We got a good laugh from these once the war was over," she said and gave Grace the paper.

**GRINGOTTS, MURDER, AND THIEVERY** was the headline.

Grace read the rest of the article aloud.

**Yesterday, the security of the legendary Wizarding bank Gringotts was breached by the three most wanted criminals of our time: Undesirable Number One Harry Potter, the blood-traitor Ronald Weasley, son of former Ministry of Magic employee Arthur Weasley, and the Muggleborn Hermione Granger. Making use of Dark Magic, the trio murdered their way to the vault of an illustrious Pureblood family and looted items of priceless historic value. The criminal trio again used Dark Magic to charm the beloved watch-dragon of the vaults to destroy a good portion of the bank, in order for the trio to make their nefarious escape.**

**Minister For Magic Thicknesse was quoted as saying, "They may have made a lucky escape from Gringotts, but they will not escape justice. When they are caught, and it will be soon, the full measure of justice will be brought to bear. It is plausible that leniency may be applied to the two young wizards in question, for they may be under the sway of stolen or illegal enchantments that the Smuggle-born has somehow managed to use. We appeal to the general public for assistance in the capture of this so-called, ill-named "Golden Trio."**

"This is like a badly written book," Grace said.

"Look, this one's worse," Hermione said, handing her another paper.

"Oh dear," her mother chortled.

_**LOVE TRIANGLE REVEALED!  
Sources that were once contemporaries of the so-called "Golden Trio," the criminals Potter, Weasley, and Granger, (see page 3) have revealed the most likely motivation of last month's breach of Gringotts.**_

_**"It's definitely a love triangle gone wrong," reports Pansy Parkinson, seventh year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Potter and Weasley have followed her around like puppies for years, so no doubt she's used some kind of dark enchantment, much like our Minister for Magic has surmised. Many of us have heard Potter and Weasley pledge to do any task she asks of them to prove their love."**_

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"This makes you look like some kind of harlot," Grace said.

"It's like you said, that paper was like a badly written book. The sensationalism sold lots of papers, and it gave the bad guys a outlet to make us look as bad as possible."

"And people believed it?" Grace asked.

"A lot of people did, or they were too scared to speak out against it. However, to those who knew us, it was rubbish. If it makes you feel any better, the people who wrote for the paper during that time can't even get jobs writing street signs nowadays."

"What about this Parkinson person?"

Hermione shrugged. "Her parents went to prison, the Parkinson estate was confiscated, and to this day she's a social leper. A lot of them are."

"Them?"

"Students who supported Voldemort. Some of them went to prison for it. Karma's a bitch for those, one of my duties is that of parole advocate."

"Hermione," her mother chided.

"It's true, I saw six of them this week. Fresh from prison, sitting in front of my desk. Parkinson didn't go to prison because she was a student, but because of her reputation, the best job she could get was as custodial worker at the Ministry."

"You don't gloat, do you? That would be unseemly."

"No, mum, I don't. I pity her and the others. So much wasted potential, and for what?"

The doorbell sounded and Hermione answered. It was Molly and Ginny. She ushered them inside and offered tea. Molly went straight for Grace.

"I heard about what happened to your home, I'm dreadfully sorry. Is there anything our family can do?" she asked.

"I'm grateful for the offer, but all that can be done is to meet with our insurance agent," Grace said. "Thank goodness for our daughter, she rushed right to us and took us in."

"Yes, children can be a blessing," Molly said, causing Ginny to roll her eyes. "Now, tell me all about this insurance business. I've heard of it, but..."

* * *

Ginny joined Hermione in the kitchen to make tea.

"How bad is the damage?" Ginny asked.

"From what I saw, a total loss. Not even their car was spared, a burning wall collapsed onto it."

"How long are they staying here?"

"As long as they need to, I suppose. It's nice having Evelyn here, and they're easy to entertain. I just turn on Magic Vision. Mum likes _Flights With Dragons_, and dad likes your show and the news. Excuse me, going to the loo."

She mumbled "call a plumber" when she passed the corridor toilet and went to her bedroom. When she returned, Harry was there, telling the group something that made them laugh. He stopped and looked at her when she came into the room. Grace and Molly gave each other pointed glances at the way Hermione and Harry gazed at each other. Ginny noted how Hermione's eyes softened when Harry smiled shyly at her. She was enjoying the scene.

"We'll just be going now," Molly said, lightly pulling on Ginny's sleeve. "Please let us know if there's anything we can do, anything at all."

"Thank you, Molly," Grace said and the two red heads left.

"Staying for lunch?" Hermione asked.

"No, not much time for lunch today. Some procedural things with Azkaban's newest resident, going to be late night," he said.

"Yes, I'll be quite busy with that myself," Hermione said. "I'm presenting my brief to Allbright on Wednesday."

"You're not worried about that, are you? You'll be brilliant. You've been in front of the Wizengamot before."

"Pushing legislation to get Centaur land back is one thing, prosecuting a murder case is a different kettle of fish altogether. I have to get a iron-clad conviction on this one, otherwise I'll only be seen as an elf advocate the rest of my days. That or being a public advocate for pick-pockets."

Not long after lunch, Ian returned with a stack of papers and a milkshake for Grace.

"Hermione, thank you again for use of your car. I promise we'll take good care of it until we get a new one," he said.

"No problem, dad, I have other ways of getting around," she said with a grin.

"The next issue is our living situation."

"You know that you can stay as long as you need."

"I know that, but I think we've driven Harry away. How must a young woman feel with her parents and baby sister underfoot? What's the popular term...cramping your style?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She wasn't aware that she had any particular style to speak of.

"I know he's being considerate of us, and we appreciate it, but we'll be out of your hair soon, if Grace likes my plan."

"Which is?" Grace asked.

"A short-term lease, on a flat close to the surgery," he said. "One of the firemen mentioned that his parents are moving into some old folk's bungalow community and have no idea what to do with the place. He's on the night shift, so he can show us the place tomorrow morning. It's even partially furnished."

"Are you going to rebuild or buy a home?" Hermione asked.

"It all depends on the insurance settlement," Ian said.

**

**Thanks for all (well, almost all) of the amazing, enthusiastic reviews!! It really and truly makes my day. I wasn't too sure about this story at first, but it seems to have taken a life of its own and I'm rather proud of it. I feel bad about my other uncompleted stories just sitting there with no updates, but when this one has finally vacated my brain, I will complete the others as well. **


	15. Chapter 15

The prosecution may begin...

* * *

Hermione left a flat key with her parents, bussed the baby on the cheek, and left for work. Upon arrival, Clarice came into her office and deposited some intra-ministry correspondence to her in-box.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. Allbright wants to see you," she said.

"For pete's sake, I just got here," Hermione fussed, grabbed a pen and pad and went to her boss's office.

"Do you have your division robe here with you?" he asked.

She nodded.

"What are you up to this morning?"

"Preparing my case brief."

"You're presenting it Wednesday, correct?"

"Yes sir, after lunch."

"Good, so this morning shouldn't take up too much of your time."

"Time for what, sir?"

"I need you to sit in my place and take notes at the Council of Magical Law meeting this morning."

"Sir, pardon my asking, but shouldn't one of the more senior advocates be present?"

He waved the question away. "Bah, you'll be fine. Just take notes and leave them in my box when you return."

Back in her office, she gave Clarice a list of books and cases to consult once she was done with the council meeting.

"You're going to be working with me on the Lancaster case, so if you can run across anything else that's not on this list that would be useful, please add it to the pile," Hermione said.

"Me?" Clarice asked.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, Miss Granger. It's just that the more senior clerks usually get chosen for trial work. Or the prettier ones."

"Well it's my choice and you're it. You're smart, responsible, and think along the same lines that I do."

"Thank you for this chance, Miss Granger. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't, but on a personal note, you really shouldn't downplay yourself so much. Harry Potter is one of the youngest Aurors, but he's also the Head Auror over there. As for pretty enough, I happened to notice that Draco Malfoy gave you a second _and_ third look when he was in here last week."

"He did? Me, a witch only five months out of Hogwarts?"

"As you're finding out, things change. You're not in Hogwarts anymore. Hell, when he asked me to lunch, I had to look out the window and see if pigs were flying."

* * *

When the council meeting was over, she laid four pages of meeting notes in her boss's inbox and returned to her office. A bouquet of flowers was on her desk. She took the card from the vase and read it with a smile.

_**Thinking of you, hope to see you at lunch. Did you manage to stay awake at the council meeting?**__**  
**__**Love, Harry**_

"How was the meeting?" Clarice asked from the doorway, pen and pad in hand.

"I'd rather stab myself in the eye with a blunt wand than go to another one ever again."

"Say no more. I gathered the materials you asked for," Clarice said.

"Great! Let's see what we can get done before lunch, shall we?"

At lunchtime, Harry wasn't surprised to see Hermione in the Law Division library. She most likely got caught up in whatever she was doing, lost track of time, and forgot about lunch. He leaned against the door jam and watched. She's lovely, no matter what she's doing. She was leaning over a table, resting on her hands while she read from a book. A cream-colored satin blouse, black knee-length skirt that flared at the hem, stockings (with garters, that much he knew) was her usual working ensemble, but today she had removed her shoes and dug her toes into the carpet as she read. She raised her right foot to scratch the back of her shapely left calf. He cleared his throat. With a dazed look that he knew came from intense study, she caught his gaze.

"Planning on eating lunch today?" he asked.

She blinked, looked at her watch, and slipped her shoes on.

"Yes, just got caught up in something, I'm famished."

"So, aside from the council meeting, how are you?" he asked, kissing her cheek as they left the office.

"Finished the outline for my brief."

"How are your parents?"

"They went to see about flat this morning."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"I suppose so, dad told me that he's worried about cramping my style and driving you away."

"For the record, nothing could drive me away from you. I'm addicted to you, Miss Granger."

"You make me sound like some kind of drug, Mr. Potter."

He pulled her to the side of the corridor, out of the way of people milling about. He dropped his mouth to her ear and whispered, tickling her earlobe. A witch giggled at the two when she walked by.

"If I could bottle your scent, I would. I would walk around with a little bottle of it around my neck and I could sniff it any time I want. If I could bottle your taste, I would. I would be drunk from it. So yes, I'm addicted to you, but it's all natural, nothing harmful."

She was a little shocked and a lot turned on by his behavior right there in the Magical Law Enforcement corridor! And didn't that giggling witch that walked by work in her office? Sod it, she didn't care. She glanced over his shoulder and saw a picture of a broom on a door. A broom cupboard? _Hmmm._ Could they....here and now? How much time was left for lunch? Did he stop in this spot on purpose?

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, turning his head to see what she was looking at.

He wasted no time. In three seconds, they were across the corridor and in the broom closet. Seven minutes later, a wizard jumped back in surprise when the broom cupboard door almost hit him in the face as he walked by. Harry and Hermione emerged, flushed and smiling. They dashed to the canteen to grab a bite to eat in the five remaining minutes of their lunch hour.

* * *

Just when she put the Shepherd's Pie in the oven, her parents returned.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"We signed a lease," Ian said, holding up a key. "We're letting it month to month. That's unusual for a lease, but the man understands our situation. He knows that we're good for it."

"Free cleanings for his daughter helps too," Grace added.

"We're having it cleaned and some furniture delivered this week," Ian said.

"How did the meeting with the insurance bloke go?"

"They're stalling, not surprising, it's a big payout. They claim to be waiting on the fire department's report."

"Can they do that?"

"According to the cover papers, they can. Personally, I think they're waiting to see if the fire department deems us liable for the fire in any way. If so, the payout will be less."

"And we decided to just buy a home. Building one will be costly and take longer than we're willing to wait. We really want to get into a home again, as soon as we can," Grace said.

"Is that Shepherd's Pie I smell?" Ian asked.

"Your favorite. Harry's too," Hermione said. "With Strawberry Shortcake for dessert."

The doorbell sounded. "Can you get that, mum? My hands are busy right now," Hermione said.

"Harry, lovely to see you," Grace said. "I assume you're here for supper?"

He nodded. "Anywhere Shepherd's Pie is being made, that's where I am."

He had a bottle of Hermione's favorite Eleven Wine in one hand, a stuffed snitch in the other, for the baby. After supper, Harry helped Hermione clean the supper dishes. _This one's a keeper!_ Grace thought gleefully.

"I found my costume today," he said.

She gave him a blank look.

"All Hallows Eve? Big party? Ring a bell?"

"Oh, that."

"You're going, aren't you?"

"Honestly, I forgot all about it. So, what's your costume?" she asked.

"It's a surprise."

"Surprise huh?"

"It's a great costume, trust me."

"Then I'll have to find a great one too."

**

While she was laying out the couch-bed, she saw Evelyn playing with the stuffed snitch Harry bought for her. In a flash, she knew what her costume would be. She placed a floo-call to Ginny.

"Gin, I need your help with a costume."

* * *

On October 21st, Hermione presented her case brief to Allbright. It was only three pages, but it was a fairly straight-forward murder case. However, she had to be as precise and aggressive as possible, because a clever defense advocate would find any hole in her prosecution to poke.

"Very good, this is a solid brief. I'll send it to the Wizengamot today."

On October 23, Allbright called her to his office. "The Lancaster trial is scheduled for next Friday at nine a.m."

"That was quick," she said

"The Auror Division was pushing for a trial date sooner than later, and since they're the face of the Ministry...at any rate, I'm sure the Aurors will be most accommodating."

So over the course of next week, she prepared her evidentiary evidence, gathered the pertinent statements from the Aurors involved, and made sure Clarice was ready to appear with her before the Wizengamot.

"You'll be assisting me, so you only be talking to me. Someone else in the chamber might speak with you, but that's not likely to happen during the trial. Yes, they're the Wizengamot, but they're really just wizards and witches who were once fresh from Hogwarts too. Their job is to listen to the testimony and evidence I present, and make sure I do my job properly while ensuring that the accused gets a fair trial. After that, they decide the fate of a wizard's life."

"How many times have you been before the Wizengamot?" Clarice asked.

"Fourteen times, so I'm no stranger to them, and the defense knows that I'm not overwhelmed by being in front of them. Once you've testified that you were mauled by giant, rabid rabbits and endured the amusement of the Chief Warlock, the splendor of the chambers is somewhat diminished."

The night before the trial, Hermione was enjoying a soothing bubble bath when the telephone rang.

"I'll get it," Harry called from the kitchen.

He talked to someone for a few minutes and returned to the bathroom.

"Your parents said good luck tomorrow," he said. "I'm curious about Ginny's call. She only said, and I quote-_ it's a go and for you to pick it up Saturday morning_," he said, using his fingers to make quotes in the air.

"Oh, that's my costume."

"Well, come on then, what is it?"

"Like yours, mine is a surprise too."

The morning of the trial, Hermione presented Clarice with a Legal Division robe. Hermione would wear the purple stole of an performing advocate with her robe. "In honor of your first Wizengamot appearance. We leave in ten minutes."

At the Division doors, Allbright was there to walk with them to the Wizengamot. He straightened Hermione's stole and they left the division.

"Nervous, Miss Granger?"

"Not really, sir. I'm confident with my case, but prepared for any bludgers that might come my way."

Once in the Wizengamot chambers, Allbright wished them good luck and promised to drop in for the verdict. Hermione acknowledged the defense advocate and noted the news reporter that was already present. She and Clarice arranged the case materials on the table while she gave Clarice a few pointers.

"Ignore the reporters, act like they're not even there. During the trial, never just sit there. Quietly shuffle papers, look like you're reading them, scribble on some papers- just keep up the appearance of being occupied with something. It tends to keep the defense wondering what we could be working on. When Lancaster is brought in, don't look at him. Again, appear to be occupied, we need to look unconcerned at his appearance, as if this whole thing is just a formality. I'm not going to give him any additional attention, the press has already done that. Good so far?"

Clarice nodded.

"One last thing. You'll probably hear testimony today that's quite unpleasant. Don't let it get to you, or at least don't let it appear to let it get to you. Lancaster may say some vile things about me, but don't concern yourself with it, because I'm certainly not. Desperate people say and do desperate things. If it gets so bad that it disrupts the proceedings, the Chief Warlock will have an Auror silence him."

Hermione straightened Clarice's robe as the Wizengamot filed in.

"Look smart and take a sip of water, here we go," she murmured.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, in his role of Chief Warlock, started the trial.

"Today, the 30th of October in the year 2009, this august body comes together to hear the case Addison Lancaster, wizard, accused and charged with the highest degree of murder. Is the prosecution ready?"

Hermione nodded. "Hermione J. Granger, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Advocate with the Office of Magical Law."

"Very well. Is the defense ready?"

The defense nodded. "Barton Cudney, of Dunstan, Heaton, and Sellick, a public advocacy firm."

The scribe noted the identity of the advocates and gave Kingsley a sheet of parchment.

"Have the accused brought in."

The doors opened and Harry marched in, Lancaster behind him in magically enhanced wrist and ankle shackles. Two Aurors flanked him, gripping him by the arms as they made their way to the chair of the accused, where his shackles were bound to the floor. Harry took a seat in the gallery while the two escort Aurors flanked the accused's chair.

"The prosecution may begin."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The trial ran all morning and into the afternoon. Three times during the first hour, Lancaster disrupted Auror witness testimony and Hermione's evidence presentation. After the third outburst, Kingsley ordered an Auror to magically silence him. It was just past 2 p.m. when Hermione stated that the prosecution was concluded.

"Very well, Miss Granger. Once the defense has concluded their case, you may make your final case statement. "

The defense recalled two more prosecution witnesses for repeat testimony before they rested their case. Hermione stood to make her statement.

"Minister, Interrogators, and Wizengamot members, today we've heard oath-rendered testimony and saw evidence of the heinous torture and murder of not just someone named Auror Macmillan; he was Ernie, who was also son, a brother, a friend. He was deprived the privilege of a long, fruitful, promising life and was the last Macmillan male of his line. The testimony you've heard is irrefutable, as is the trail of evidence and past criminal history of Addison Lancaster, the accused sitting before you today. He has expressed absolutely no remorse for his crimes, and we believe he is a hazard not fit to be set loose on society. To that end, the prosecution asks for incarceration in Azkaban for the rest of his natural life, with no possibility of parole. Thank you for your time."

She took a seat and sipped from a glass of water. The defense advocate made his statement and Kingsley announced that a verdict would be returned within the hour, and for all parties to return in that time. She sighed and took a seat. The Aurors took Lancaster from the chambers.

"Let's get something to eat," Hermione said.

While they were waiting in line at the canteen, Harry joined them, greeting Hermione with a quick kiss.

"Lunch is on me, for these two fine ladies of the law," Harry said to the cashier.

"I had the biggest, best steak of my life when I went to Las Vegas. I wish they had that here for lunch," Hermione said, "but for now, sandwich and crisps will suffice. They might come back with a verdict soon."

Harry chose his usual sandwich and soda, while Clarice chose a curry rice dish. They sat and chatted while they ate.

"Why did the advocate call those two Aurors back for questioning? He asked the same questions as before," Clarice pointed out.

"Defense tactic, to have us wondering why he called them back, to see if they'd say something different. Or to stall," Hermione said.

"So it happens often?" Clarice asked.

"Yes, but we have a rock-solid case, there's no legal holes for him to poke," Hermione said. "He's under obligation to defend his client as vigorously as possible."

"Even when it's obvious he's guilty as sin?" Clarice asked.

"That's the life of a defense advocate," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Are you going to eat that?" Hermione asked, gesturing to Harry's uneaten sandwich.

"Not really hungry as I thought," he said. "Seeing those pictures was unsettling."

She squeezed his hand in sympathy. It couldn't have been easy for him to see the pictures of an old Hogwarts mate and veteran Auror, eyes that were once a vibrant blue now staring blankly in death. It wasn't easy for anyone, but necessary. Percy Weasley, a Wizengamot official, came into the canteen and surveyed the diners. He spotted the three and made his way to their table.

"Hermione, they've returned with a verdict," he said, glancing at the other two.

Harry ignored him and took a sip of his soda. The Weasleys may have forgiven him for his past behavior, but Harry wasn't sure he ever would forgive him for treating his own family the way he did.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Hermione replied.

Percy paused for a moment at the formal address before leaving the canteen. Apparently, Hermione had a hard time forgiving him as well.

"That was quick, only twenty minutes," Clarice said.

"Let's hope it's a good quick," Hermione said.

* * *

Minutes later, the defense and prosecution stood as the Wizengamot members returned to their seats. Kingsley nodded to the clerk and spoke.

"Mr. Cudney, Miss Granger, you are to be commended for your handling of this difficult case."

He indicated for the Aurors to bring Lancaster to his feet.

"Addison Lancaster, the Wizengamot finds you guilty of the highest degree of assault and murder of Auror Ernest Macmillan. As such, you are hereby sentenced to Azkaban Prison for the entirety of your natural life, with no possibility of parole. This sentence is to be carried out immediately and your wand will be snapped in half and burned. Let this be recorded on the 30th day of October in the year 2009. This trial is concluded."

Hermione and Clarice arrived back at their office to general applause. Allbright brought them into his office, got their impressions of the case, and gave them the rest of the day off. Hermione gathered her things and sent Harry a message that she would be at home. At her flat, she flipped through the stack of mail in her owl post bin and set it aside to read after a nap. She went to the bedroom to find her costume hanging on the wardrobe door. She read the note attached.

_**Herms-  
I hope you like it. It's perfect, something that no one would ever see you wearing! Take a picture, or better yet, I'll drop by before the party.  
Ginny **_

She changed out of her work clothes, took a quick shower, and laid down for a nap. The flat was quiet, which caused her to sigh. She had come to like having her parents and the baby in the house. _Alone again._

After his work day was done, Harry stepped through Hermione's Floo. In her living room, her robe and handbag were on the couch. Her shoes were beside the easy chair and Crooks was standing in the corridor. The cat gave him a soft meow in greeting and went to the bedroom. He followed the cat, who leapt to the bed and sat beside his mistress, casually licking his paws. Hermione was asleep, sprawled out in a dressing gown, her hair spread all over the pillows.

He carefully sat next to her so as not to jostle the bed too much. He was content just to watch her sleep, but Crooks wasn't. He wanted her attention and food. He licked her hand, nudged her hip with his head, and moved to nuzzle his way through her hair to lick her ear. She sighed and swatted at whatever was on her ear before she woke. She rolled her eyes at that fact that Harry was just watching the scene with a grin on his face.

"I suppose this amuses you?" she asked as the cat continued to lick her ear. "He'll do this until I feed him."

"Then let's get him fed, then I get can get his mum fed," he said. "We have a date at Aberdeen Steak House tonight. I've got a hankering for New York Strip."

"Prime Rib and strawberry cheesecake for me," she said dreamily.

* * *

  
October 31, 2009

The light of the sunrise peeking through pale peach drapes found two lovers being woken by a cat.

"I'm shutting the door from now on," Hermione mumbled.

"I dunno, I think it's better than a noisy alarm clock," Harry said.

"It's early Saturday morning, there should be no fussy feline or alarm clock," she said sleepily.

"If it's any comfort, you look rather fetching first thing in the morning," he said.

Crooks pounced on Hermione's hand that moved under the duvet.

"All right, cat! I'm up," she fussed and summoned her dressing robe, mumbling as she shoved her arms into the sleeves.

"I'll start a shower," he said, chuckling at her morning grumpiness.

She returned from the kitchen to find him in the shower, surprising him a bit when she opened the door to find him stroking himself.

"I should have tossed the cat out the door and taken care of that in bed," she said.

"You can come in here and take care of it if you'd like," he said.

She shrugged off the dressing robe and eagerly joined him in the shower.

**

"Sure you don't want some?" she asked.

He eyed her large bowl of muesli and yogurt with a moue of distaste and patted his box of Weetabix Chocolate Crisp cereal. "I'm good with this, thanks."

He watched her scrape the last of the yogurt from the bowl and wipe her mouth.

"You know how I visit my parent's grave every year on this day?" he asked.

She nodded and squeezed his hand.

"I usually go alone, but I'd really like it if you'd go with me this time," he said. "I mean...I don't want to bum you out or anything by going to a graveyard, and--"

"Love, of course I'll go with you. Say no more. We can get a beautiful bouquet of flowers to leave with them."

They dressed warmly after breakfast and went to Godric's Hollow. There were several bunches of flowers already at the Potter graves. A reporter for The Daily Prophet was also there, standing outside of the graveyard gates, taking notes as the couple approached. When the reporter opened his mouth to say something to Harry, Hermione whipped out her wand and cast a silencing charm on him. Harry smirked at his look of outrage.

"It'll be easier to ignore him," she said and the two continued through the gate, paying no more mind to the outraged reporter.

He placed the large bouquet of lilies, daisies and gladiolus above their graves.

"Mum, Dad, I brought along a visitor today. You know Hermione, I've talked about her a lot over the years. The last time she was here with me wasn't such a good time, but now it is. Times are good, especially when you're with someone you love, but you already knew that, didn't you? You're together in peace, I know you are, and that's the reason I'm able to get through this day."

Hermione draped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

"Dumbledore once said that the ones who truly love us never really leave us. It's true, you know. I see it here, I see it everywhere. Your love started it, and it's the reason I'm standing here today with someone I love. I guess that's it until next year. I love you, bye."

As the two left the graveyard, two spirits appeared at the Potter grave and saw Harry and Hermione looking at the statue of James, Lily, and baby Harry.

"You don't think the Samhain legends are true about today, do you? About the spirits of loved ones crossing over?" Hermione asked.

"Has a spirit ever paid you a visit? On this day or any other day?" Harry asked, amused at the question, this from the smartest, most logical person he knew. "It's a myth, but it would be nice to see them, if only for a little while."

The two left with a pop of Apparition.

"We love you too, sweetheart," the red-headed spirit whispered.

* * *

**That night...**

Ginny was helping Hermione get her costume properly arranged. Ginny found it hilarious that she had to do it, but because it was Hermione sporting the kit, it was necessary. At a sound from the lounge, both stopped and listened.

"Was that the Floo?" Ginny asked.

"Can you go and see who it is? If it's Harry, I want to make a grand surprise entrance," Hermione said, tugging at a thick piece of leather at her elbow.

"It'll be a surprise all right," Ginny said and left the bedroom.

She came to a skidding stop in the lounge at the sight of Harry. "Well, don't you look.._.dashing!_"

"Mr. Granger helped me with it," he said as Ginny examined his uniform from all angles. "So it looks all right?"

"I'll be out in a minute!" was heard from the bedroom.

"I had to help her with her costume, you'll know why when you see her."

"Now I'm curious," he said.

They heard the bedroom door open. Both Hermione and Harry looked at each other, gobsmacked at each other's appearance. Harry burst out in laughter.

"Now that is something I never thought to see you in!" he exclaimed, marveling over Hermione's incredibly realistic professional Quidditch player's uniform.

"It's my old kit, without all the Harpie's stuff all over it, down to the elbow pads and bootlaces!" Ginny said proudly, as if she were presenting Hermione in a bridal gown.

"Of course I would never wear something like this, but that's kind of the point tonight, isn't it? The chance to be someone else, if only for a bit. What about you, Corporal Potter?"

She agreed with Ginny. He did look quite dashing in his Royal Marine Commando camouflage uniform. He took off his helmet and adjusted the sling of his fake weapon. She took measure of him, examining him from head to boot.

"Actually, I can see you doing that! You're already kind of like a commando, a wizard commando."

"You two are going to be the hit of the party!" Ginny said.

"You're not going?" Hermione asked.

"Wayne's on shift tonight, so I'm not going," Ginny replied. "Let me get my camera."

She dug in her handbag and had them stand in front of the fireplace. "Big smiles now, say banshee!"

**

**Chapter End Notes:**

Flower meanings:  
Lillies (duh)  
Gladiolus- strength of character  
daisy- fidelity


	17. Chapter 17

The Apparation point for the All Hallows Eve party was at the large, ornate gates that heralded the entrance to Malfoy Manor. Two security wizards were checking the invites of the arrivals, one of them being Greg Goyle.

"How are you?" Hermione asked politely.

"Good, thanks. I got a flat and a telly," he said proudly.

Considering where he'd been and his future prospects once he left Azkaban, Hermione supposed he had plenty to be happy about. She wasn't about to rain on his parade.

"Good to hear you're doing well," she said.

"Enjoy the party," he said and the other security wizard tapped the gates with his wand.

They walked up the long path leading to the manor, torches lighting their way. Bonfires were lit about the grounds with party-goers merrily dancing around them. They arrived at the massive front doors of the manor to find their attention drawn to activity and music coming from the east side of the manor. They went that way to find the famed Malfoy Ballroom opened to the grounds. The Weird Sisters were in full tilt.

"How the hell did he manage to get The Weird Sisters to play here?" Harry asked no one in particular.

"How the hell did he manage to get the house elves to dress in costume?" Hermione asked.

"Oi! Would you look at that?" came from a familiar voice.

Ron ambled into view somewhere from their right with a harem girl under each arm. Harry snorted in amusement.

"Right bloody clever costumes!" Ron exclaimed. "All you're missing is a broom!" he gestured to Hermione, knocking the witch under his right arm in the head with his champagne flute.

Hermione winced in sympathy for the young witch, who looked to be not a day over seventeen.

"One of your harem I take it?" Harry asked dryly.

The two young witches looked at Harry and Hermione in awe.

_"It's the other two!"_ one of them hissed excitedly to the other.

"Yeah, this is...Karen-" Ron started.

"_Kathryn_," she corrected.

"Yeah, Kathy and...Patty-"

"_Pamela_," the other witch also corrected.

Harry and Hermione gave each other a pointed glance. It was obvious that Ron's "harem" didn't accompany him to this party for his sparkling personality (in his mind), but unfortunately no one bothered telling him that. He wouldn't understand or believe it anyway. The witches of his harem could declare their mission accomplished: to be seen at one of the premier social events of the year in Wizarding Britain.

"I need a drink," Hermione said.

**

Several drinks later, the couple stood before a massive table overflowing with every kind of sweet, biscuit, or cake imaginable. Hermione licked her lips at the thought of an apple covered with hot caramel sauce, and declared that a chocolate éclair topped with a warm strawberry sauce would go perfectly with the caramel apple. Harry chuckled and plucked the empty ale bottle from her hand and placed another in its place. She warmly thanked the elf when he (she?) gave her the plate of sweets. She took a huge bite of the éclair and groaned.

"Sweet is good for miss?" the elf asked, extending a handkerchief to her.

"Yes, very good for miss," Hermione said.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and someone said, "Good evening, Miss Granger."

She turned to see Clarice and Draco. Draco's lips twitched and Clarice grinned shyly at her.

"It's great to see you!" Hermione said to her, glancing at the elf, wondering why the poor thing was there practically dancing with the handkerchief.

"Great costume, Miss Granger," she said.

"Clarice, we're not at work, we're at a smashing party, please call me Hermione."

Harry cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked at him and saw him tapping the end of his nose.

"Is this a new party game?" Hermione asked, tapping his nose as well.

"How much has she had to drink?" Draco asked when Hermione tapped Clarice's nose.

Harry finally took the handkerchief from the elf and drew Hermione close. "You have a spot of red sauce on end your nose," he whispered in her ear.

She mouthed "oh" and wiped her nose. The Weird Sisters started a song and a cheering crowd gathered.

"I love this song!" Hermione exclaimed and went to join the crowd. She urged Clarice to join her and soon the two were hopping and swaying with the rest of the crowd.

"At least she's a fun drunk," Draco said. "I can't say the same for Weasley over there."

They looked to see Ron glaring at the dancing crowd.

"What's his problem?" Draco asked.

"His harem has left him," Harry replied and the two shared the latest gossip of the Ministry.

The raucous song ended and a slower song began. Hermione returned to him and took his hand.

"Fancy a dance, Corporal Potter?" she asked.

The held each close and swayed among the other dozen of slow-dancing couples. She was thoroughly enjoying his covetous hold on her and snuggled closer to him. He rested his chin on top of her head.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked and lightly kissed her forehead.

"Yes, great music, great food, great company," she said and nuzzled his chest.

"In all the time I've known you, I've never seen your hair like this," he said of the ponytail high on her head. "I like it."

"Ginny said most women Quidditch players wear their hair like this," she said.

"And you fill out that kit quite nicely," he said, placing a soft kiss below her ear.

"Oi, my turn!" a loud voice suddenly declared from behind them.

"Bugger off, Ron, we're in the middle of a dance," Harry said, his voice tinged with irritation.

Ron grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled.

"No, Ron, get off!" she protested and tried to pry his fingers off her arm.

"Come on, just for a minute," he said and pulled harder, yanking off the elbow pad.

She pushed him away angrily. "What's wrong with you? Quit making a scene! I said no!"

Draco appeared on the scene flanked by two bulking security wizards. "Is there a problem here?" he asked.

"Yeah, these two," Ron said belligerently.

"What did we do?" Harry asked.

"You're drunk, Ron, go home," Hermione said.

"Piss off, you can't tell me what to do!"

Harry grabbed the front of Ron's robe. "Don't talk to her that way," he warned.

"Weasley, leave my home immediately," Draco said and spoke to the security wizards at his side. "Gentlemen, escort him to the front gate."

He gestured for the band to continue and the party resumed.

* * *

Harry was talking with a group of wizards comparing their mobiles and girlfriends.

"Yeah, that's good, but mine has this-"

He saw Hermione and a group of witches dash from the ballroom. _What are they up to?_

Unbelievably, Hermione had a broom in her hand. Harry returned his attention to the wizards and almost dropped his mobile at his next thought.

_She's not going to fly, is she? _

"All right there, Potter?"

He left the group and broke into a run. _She can't fly and she's been drinking! _

He arrived too late and heard a group of witches and a growing crowd of wizards cheering her on. Hermione was dubiously famous for her aversion to flying and her opinion that brooms were only good for sweeping, so this was a rare sight. All Harry could think about was the love of his life falling and breaking her pretty neck. Draco appeared at his side with a broom.

"Get up there with her, Potter," he said.

Harry mounted the broom and sped toward her. He guessed that she was about thirty feet off the ground, but surprisingly stable as she coasted above the crowd. She slowed to a stop when he arrived beside her.

"_Gather your galleons, tossers!"_ she shouted to the crowd. "_Yeah, Katie, you too!"_

"Did someone put you up to this?" Harry asked.

She burped and scoffed. "Katie and a group of the girls said I was _a scared little girl_ and bet that I couldn't fly!"

When she lifted her hands to air-quote "_scared little girl_" her broom tipped forward. She squealed and grabbed the handle once more. Harry reached over and took hold of the handle with a hand.

"For Merlin's sake, love, keep your hands on it!" he exclaimed.

"Will you tell me that later?" she asked lasciviously.

He was torn between amusement and exasperation. "Are you ready to rejoin the party? The costume winners are about to be announced," he said.

Due her wobbly flying skills and tipsy, nonsensical conversation, she suddenly dropped too fast and the bristles of her broom brushed the top of a bonfire. She felt heat on her bum and patted her pockets for her wand.

"Hold on!" Harry shouted and sprayed water with his wand.

Unfortunately, this damaged the broom to a non-flyable status. Harry grabbed her wrist as the broom dropped out from under her, sobering her instantly.

"Listen to me, love. Look down, we're not far from the ground. I'm going to fly very slow and take you to Neville, you see him there? He has his arms out ready for you."

She nodded quickly and got a better grip on his hand. As soon as she was safely on the ground, Harry shook Neville's hand and practically dragged Hermione back to a deserted parlor in the manor. She stood quiet and watched him pace, stop and look at her, and resume pacing.

"Harry?"

He stopped, ran a hand through his hair, and spoke vehemently. "What were you thinking? Haven't you ever heard not to drink and fly? You could have fallen off that broom and hurt yourself or worse! You're smarter than doing some stupid dare!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. It was stupid."

He saw her trembling hands and teary eyes.

"You scared yourself," he stated softly.

She nodded quickly in response. He took her face in his hands, gave her a heated kiss, and drew her close.

"We didn't live through a war for you to die because of some stupid dare from your drunk mates! I don't know what I'd do if something ever happened to you! I love you...you daft, beautiful, maddening, brave..._witchy woman_."

"Witchy woman?" she repeated, snickering at his words.

"See? You get me so flustered that I can't think straight. And you owe someone a broom, whose was it?"

She shrugged. "Dunno, someone just shoved it in my hands."

* * *

When the clock in the ballroom chimed at midnight, a flourish was heard from the band. Draco stood at the microphone and spoke.

"Thanks to all of you for attending my little party," he said, eliciting laughter from the crowd. "Despite that flying stunt earlier, I sincerely hope that this gathering was an enjoyable one."

He raised his champagne flute to the crowd, who clapped in response.

"Now we come to the moment you've all been waiting for, the judging of the costumes. The distinguished panel of judges includes me of course, and the members of the Puddlemere United quidditch team."

The crowd cheered and whistled when a troupe of cowboys made a collective bow. Draco and the cowboys put their heads together for a few minutes and came to a decision.

"Tonight's third place winner, who will also be the winner of a month's free programming of Magic Vision, is Katie Bell, for her spot-on likeness of Minerva McGonagall."

The crowd clapped and a some of the old professor's most memorable phrases were heard throughout the crowd.

"Everyone, take note of the bloke covered in balloons. Second place goes to Alan Moresby, costumed as a bunch of grapes. As such, he will get to peruse the wine cellar of Malfoy Manor and take home the wine of his choice."

Alan yelped when someone behind him popped a balloon attached to his bum.

"Now we come to tonight's first place winner, who will be the recipient of a 100 galleon gift cheque good at any Dragon Communications outlet shop. Congratulations to Hermione Granger, for her most unlikely and form-fitting use of a Quidditch kit."

**

Back at Grimmauld Place, Ron sat alone in the dining room with a Butterbeer and crisps. Now that his head was clearer, he felt extremely foolish at his earlier behavior. He was aggravated at the fact that he arrived at the party with seven witches and was unceremoniously booted from the party with nary a witch to take home. He couldn't work out exactly why that aggravation was transferred to Harry, and felt damn lucky that Hermione didn't hex his balls off for his treatment of her. If Ginny had been there, she probably would have. His sister and Hermione were best mates, thick as thieves and protective of each other. Just after midnight, the happy couple in question Apparated to the front parlor. Ron saw them from the dining room and grinned when Harry pinched her rather fit bum, accentuated in Quidditch pants. With a single finger to his chest bone, she pushed him against the wall and attacked his mouth with hers.

_She never did that to me! _

They held hands all the way up the stairs and he heard Harry's bedroom door close.

**

Hermione didn't mind one bit for Harry to begin the night's sexual escapades in the shower. They lovingly lathered each other, and during the rinsing portion of the shower, Hermione found herself leaning against the wall with a leg draping Harry's shoulder while he eagerly lapped and sucked at her quim. For someone who claimed a less than stellar sex life in the past, he was really quite good at it.

He paused, stood, and turned her around to face the wall.

"You did something naughty this evening, Miss Granger. You could have burned this gorgeous arse when that broom caught fire," he said, massaging and grinding his cock between her cheeks. "Do you know what happens to naughty witches?"

She shook her head and shuddered when he inserted a finger in her arse.

"They get a spanking," he said and gave her wet slaps alternating with finger thrusts until her arse cheeks were red. She was panting with pleasure when he slid his cock in, causing her to keen in pleasure, he groaning until he was in to the hilt.

"_Fuck, this is paradise_," he gasped in her ear.

She moved against him and let her head fall back against his shoulder. His hands moved from her breasts to holding her hips as he slapped against her. He slowed, not wanting to come, wanting to make it to the bed, to draw their pleasure out as long as possible. He looked down where his cock was moving in and out of her arse, marveling at her motions mirroring his rolling hips.

"Let's move this to the bed," he urged.

They kissed and fondled the short distance to his bed and picked up where they left off.

"Ride me," he encouraged.

She straddled his hips and sank to the hilt. She rolled her hips, riding him decadently, taking her pleasure of him. When she brought her own hands to her breasts, he sat up, his hands and mouth taking the place of her hands. Tonight wasn't going to be mindless rutting; but slow, passionate loving of each other, reveling in the other's whispered affections and appreciation of the pleasure they were bringing one another.

"Look at us, it's perfect," he whispered.

She looked to where their bodies were connected and arched her back to roll deeper, to try and take more of him into her.

"Perfect," she whispered.

**

They cuddled under the covers, listening to a crackling fire in the fireplace, watching the shadows from the flames dancing on the walls. She rested her head on his chest while he absently ran a hand through her hair.

"Love, there's something I've been dead curious about," he said.

"Ask away," she replied.

"Have you always been so...sexual?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to offend her.

She chuckled and patted his chest, not at all offended. "Admittedly, no."

"Then when....or how...?" he asked.

She snorted softly. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Like I said, I've been dead curious about it."

She sighed and sat up. "And since I appreciate honest curiosity, and because I love you, you get the story behind the discovery of my sexuality."

**


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Chapter Notes:

"Sex is a natural function. You can't make it happen, but you can teach people to let it happen." _Dr. William H. Masters_

* * *

She cleared her throat and began. "I suppose it all started fourth year."

"Huh?" Harry squawked in disbelief.

"Calm down, it's not what you think," she assured him. "I was fifteen, confused about Ron, and not too sure about myself. Viktor came into the library one day, said that he liked pretty witches with brains, and asked if I had a wizard for the Yule Ball. You could have knocked me over with a feather! He was the first male aside from Daddy who ever said I was pretty _and_ smart in the same sentence."

"I'm sorry for never saying it," he said.

"Love, you were fourteen and just as confused as I was. Anyway, we continued our..._association_ after the ball. Viktor gave me my first kiss and many after that, but nothing much beyond that. I was only fifteen after all, but I did realize that _hey, I'm a girl and it was possible for a boy to like me_. So he went back to Bulgaria and I hoped that things would start with Ron."

She absently plucked at the sheet. "So let's fast-forward to after the war. Ron and I finally got together."

She thought carefully about her next words. "It's hard to accurately describe what happened. He became lazy...he stopped trying, that's a better way to say it. I guess he figured that he finally had me and that was enough. Those first couple of months things were good. I was in love, for my part anyway, and genuinely happy to be with him. Things started unraveling when the Cannons took him on."

She let out a sigh and he squeezed her hand in comfort. This was obviously hard for her to talk about, because she never really talked about the reason behind the famous break-up. "I was happy for him, happy that his dreams were coming true. He was away a lot for training and matches, but I figured that being a good girlfriend meant putting up with his job. That's what girlfriends of professional Quidditch players do, or so he told me."

"He told you that?" Harry asked, wanting to box Ron's ears himself.

"As his career grew, our relationship shrank, that's the best way I can put it. The romance, excitement, affection, attention- it all faded, and it showed in our love life. Don't get me wrong, sex isn't everything in a relationship, but it became nothing more a chore for me. No fulfillment, no pleasure, no affection- just him flopping into the bed, rutting for a few minutes to get his jollies, and going to sleep."

"What in the world was he thinking?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Please don't think the worst of him. He's a good man, our best friend, but he's just got an odd idea in his head of how witches are supposed to be."

As far as Harry was concerned, Hermione had a body fit to be worshiped, and to be the recipient of her love and affection made him feel like the most fortunate man on Earth. Yes, Ron indeed suffered from temporary insanity.

"During that big fight, I found out what he was thinking. Quite simply, he thought that I should be more like his mother. Again, don't get me wrong, I love Molly to pieces, but I'm not a house frau and I never will be. Yes, I want to be a wife and mother someday, but not to the exclusion of everything else."

"And he disagreed."

"Did he ever, and the insults flew like those insane birds from that scary Hitchcock movie*. He said that I was a frigid, uncaring bitch and that I should feel lucky to even be with him. I came back with that I would be better off with a deaf and blind mute, and well... you know the rest. Our very public breakup even made the papers. After a few weeks of blubbering into cartons of ice cream and living with my parents, I started seeing blokes at the Ministry. A few dates here and there, nothing more. I was worried that most wizards were like Ron until I talked to Molly. Believe it or not, she was on my side. She said that he was raised better than that, better than to treat a witch so poorly, but there was nothing they could do. He was out on his own and would have to learn the hard way."

"But he hasn't learned."

She shrugged. "I don't know, and as harsh as it sounds, I no longer care. He's plenty old enough to know better. Anyway, it was about a year later before I got into another wizard's bed. You know about that one."

"Yeah, the married one, nice thing to find out about three months later."

"I'm still mortified about that, you know."

"Don't. That lying piece of rat shit hid it well."

"I feel that I have to warn you about the next episode of the story. It's when I discovered what I like, what I don't like, and not to be ashamed of exploring and taking full advantage of my sexuality."

She cleared her throat, still not entirely sure about disclosing her biggest secret. The only person on the planet who knew was Ginny. Her red-headed friend wasn't going to tell, because she went to the bordello herself once on a drunken whim when she broke up with Harry and suggested it to Hermione. _Has she ever told Wayne?_

"His name was Anton, but that probably wasn't his real name. Gigolos often go by an alias."

"A what?" _Am I hearing correctly?_

She huffed. "A gigolo, Harry. Men that are paid to have sex. If you want me to leave, just tell me now."

"I know what gigolos are, and no, don't leave. I'm shocked out of my socks, if I was wearing any."

"Do you want to hear more?"

"Well, you just can't say something like that and leave me hanging. Go ahead, I'm not angry, just very shocked."

"Anton was an older man who knew the crux of my problem right away. I paid good money to see him exclusively every time I went to the..._bordello_. He was patient, fun, and most importantly, _kind_ to me. For eight months, I enthusiastically learned about a man and a woman's capacity for pleasure and excitement. He often joked that I was an excellent pupil."

"You were always one for learning."

"I soaked it up like a sponge. It paid off in spades when Anton left for greener pastures and I played the field with a new-found confidence. I didn't bounce from bed to bed like a slag, but I chose carefully. About the time I took that Lycanthropy legislation to the Wizengamot I was in my first normal, healthy relationship."

"That Brinley bloke?"

"Yes, Brinley. We broke up because of timing, mainly. He wanted kids right away, I didn't. We parted amicably, still friends to this day."

"Then Wayne."

She giggled. "Who I introduced to Ginny when she dropped her handbag on his foot."

"She was worried that you would call her out for stealing Wayne from you," Harry said.

"When I did that Ministry Exchange program in Italy for six months, I dated an Italian Charms teacher who also owned a restaurant."

"That explains why you cook Italian so well."

"When I returned from Italy, I went through a dry spell because my career was taking off. Then that idiotic rabbit thing happened, prompting the transfer to the law office."

"And Trace."

"Who I truly thought was _the one_, but none of that matters. I'm with you now."

"I thank you for that, but I still want to shake some sense into Ron."

"Love, if the examples of you, Arthur, his brothers- the ones closest to him who enjoy normal, lasting relationships isn't convincing enough, I'm afraid nothing is. He's a grown wizard, he needs to figure it out on his own."

* * *

The next morning, Ron sat at the dining room table with toast, eggs, and tea while he read the paper. Harry and Hermione, still in dressing gowns, came into the room and greeted him good morning. He grunted in response. They left with cereal, bowls, spoons, and milk and went to the library. He finished his breakfast, glanced at the two enjoying cereal in front of the telly, and continued to his room. After a few steps however, he paused and listened at the corner of the corridor. Maybe they would talk about the party he missed.

"Ron was funny this morning," she said.

"He's just grumpy because no witch graced his bed last night, despite arriving with seven of them," Harry said.

Hermione snorted indelicately. "That's because no witch in her right mind would bed him a _second_ time."

Ron couldn't believe his ears. _Come on, Harry, be a mate, say something! _Unfortunately, Hermione spoke again.

"Don't look at me like that! You know it's true because you're trying not to laugh! Unless Won-won has picked up some new moves over the years, the poor witch who shares his bed has to frig herself once he's done. Why do you think I'm so good at it?" she asked lightly, causing to Harry choke on his cereal.

Ron couldn't listen to anymore. Did Hermione (best friend and ex-girlfriend) and an untold number of witches see him as a cad who apparently wasn't that good in bed? _Sweet Merlin, does mum think I'm a cad?_ He wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.

As November passed, Harry noted positive changes in Ron. He drank less, visited with his family more often, and not a witch was in sight. Because of the changes, he was able to rededicate himself to Quidditch and the Cannons found themselves in third place in the league the last week of November.

Always a strategist, he started socializing with couples without being intrusive to listen and observe everything that went on. Sometimes it felt like he was starting over and he knew that he had a lot of work to do. His favorite couples to observe were Harry and Hermione, because they were so quirky, and Ginny and Wayne. Hermione and Ginny didn't put up with any of Harry and Wayne's crap, but their headstrong ways didn't affect the loving nature of their relationships. If anything, Harry and Wayne were turned on by the stubborn and sassy ways of their witches. They fought spectacularly and made up just as spectacularly. Harry and Hermione didn't have change their personalities, so whatever they were doing was working. He couldn't believe he had teased Harry for being whipped. He was finally happy and content, so he must have sounded like such a git for begrudging him for it. Harry didn't prance around spouting love sonnets, (Hermione would gag him if he tried) but he knew exactly what to say to bring a sweet smile to Hermione's face. By the sounds that came from his bedroom, he knew exactly what to do to make her sing his praises to the heavens. With Hermione, Harry had it all coming and going.

* * *

**November 25, 2009**

Hermione knocked on her boss's door. He beckoned her inside.

"Sir, I need to head over the Hit Wizards to file an incident report."

He set his papers down. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No, sir, but I need something documented in case something does happen. You never know with some people."

He closed his door with a wave of his hand. "Tell me from the beginning."

She explained about the reporter she had silenced at the graveyard on October 31. Since then, he had written several articles that toed the line between legality and libel.

"I'm not going to say that he's stalking me, but twice I've seen him outside of my flat when I've never seen him there before. He shows up in the canteen here, waiting in the Atrium when I arrive, at the bookstore, basically-"

"He won't leave you alone?"

"Precisely sir. It's not criminal, but it's starting to bother me."

"Does Harry know?"

"Some of it, yes, but I don't want to involve him in a petty dispute with a bottom-feeding reporter. He's had enough of that and I want to spare him from it. He's got enough to do and this is a Hit Wizard matter. I can take care of it."

**

Two days later, Harry was preparing to meet Hermione for lunch when Ron came into his office.

"No training today? Come to lunch with us, it's rice curry day," Harry said.

"Hermione's been arrested. She's over in the Hit Wizard detention ward," Ron said.

"Very funny," Harry said.

"I'm not joking. I was there."

Harry grabbed his cloak and left the office with Ron. The walk to the Hit Wizard took only a few minutes and they found Hermione's boss in the Head Hit Wizard's office. They caught the end of the conversation.

"-and we can't be seen as playing favorites. The law is the law, I'm sure she knows this. We all know Miss Granger, and I'm sure her lapse in judgment can be explained, but it will have to be explained in court. When her bail is posted--"

He saw Harry waiting outside of the office.

"You might as well come in too, Potter."

"What happened?"

"A verbal dispute with a reporter that turned physical. Both Miss Granger and the reporter are charged with public dueling, disturbing the peace, and assault. Additionally, Miss Granger has pressed charges of stalking and libel."

"She mentioned an incident report a couple of days ago and said that she could take care of it," Harry said.

The Hit Wizard held up the incident report in question.

"She brought the concern to me as well, but I never imagined things would come to this," Allbright said.

**

In the detention wards, they were relieved to see Hermione sitting at the watch desk playing cards with a young Hit Wizard, her left hand shackled to the floor. He hurried to her and engulfed her in a hug.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Feeling really stupid," she said.

"At least you're not in a cell," Allbright said.

"She's not a danger to anyone, she's not a flight risk, and we know she's good for bail. Our chief saw no reason to throw her in a cell, but I can't say the same for him," he said, gesturing to the reporter who was in a cell. "He swung his camera at one of the apprehending wizards."

"Cor, that was an accident!" he called out from the cell.

"As your advocate, I must advise that you say no more about the events of this case until your Wizengamot appearance," Allbright said.

"Yes, sir," Hermione said.

"What now?" Ron asked.

The Hit Wizard who apprehended Hermione came into the ward and spoke. "After her bail is posted and the Wizengamot Services serves her a date of appearance, she'll be free to go."

"Sorry to make you miss lunch, today was curry rice day in the canteen," she said. "Ron, are you doing anything today?"

"No, why?"

"Can you go and let my parents know what's happened?" she asked.

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

Okay folks, here's my awful _cold pizza-bad sex_ analogy: Bad sex is like cold pizza; it's cold, but it's still pizza.

*_The Birds_, a freaky Alfred Hitchcock film


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Chapter Notes:

There are crimes of passion and crimes of logic. The boundary between them is not clearly defined. _Albert Camus_

* * *

Hermione continued the card game while Harry posted her bail, Allbright sent Katie to sit with her while he went to the WSA, and Ron went to her parents. The reporter continued to rail at Hermione, the Hit Wizards, the Ministry, and even his own paper.

"I've written down everything he's said," Katie said.

The Hit Wizard, named Bryce, snickered. The reporter didn't say another word. An hour later, Ron returned with fish and chips for her.

"I should have brought more," he said when he saw Katie.

"I had lunch, but thanks for the thought all the same," Katie said, smiling shyly at him.

"They said to call them as soon as you get home," he said to Hermione.

"Were they angry?" Hermione asked, stuffing an entire chip into her mouth. Manners be damned at the moment- she was starved and in handcuffs.

"Not really, just surprised."

"Weren't we all?" Katie asked.

Harry returned with a bail receipt in hand. "Well, the gang's all here. Katie, how are you?"

"I'm well, thanks. Allbright sent me over to keep her company."

Speaking of which, the doors opened and Allbright returned to the ward with none other than Percy Weasley.

_"And my day is complete,"_ Hermione mumbled.

"Hey, Perce," Ron said.

"Hello, Ronald," Percy returned and faced Hermione. "Hermione, you have been scheduled to appear before the Wizengamot to answer for charges of public dueling, disturbing the peace, and assault on Thursday December 10, 2009."

She took the sheaf of papers and sighed.

"I'm personally handling the administration of your case, to ensure no mistakes are made and to prevent any undue delay of the case. I'm sure that you want a swift resolution," he said.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

**

Hermione was released from the detention ward and followed Allbright to his office. He pointed to a chair.

"Now that you're out of detention, we can really talk. Forgive me for sounding like a scolding father, but, young lady, what were you thinking?"

"It's no excuse, but I lost my temper."

He sighed and sat back. "This isn't the first time an advocate from this office has run afoul of the law, but when I say that you know better, I truly know that you do. When I get all of the evidence and witness statements to determine the tone of the case, we'll sit down and decide on the kind of plea for you to make. I feel the need to warn you that since the Ministry reforms after the war, they're not inclined to play favorites. You might be facing a hefty fine and possibly jail time."

She nodded. "I've considered that."

"And in accordance to division procedures, you are hereby placed on an unpaid leave of absence until your hearing."

"Yes sir."

Her trembling lips and eyes on the verge of tears was hard for him to see.

"Take heart, Hermione. You're hardly a criminal, you know that, everyone knows that. Take this time to gather affidavits from as many people as you can to vouch for you. Use this time to get your quaffles in a row so that you'll be fully prepared come December tenth."

She gathered her things and went to the Auror division. The watch wizard let her through the foyer that led to Harry's office.

"Are you okay, Miss Granger?" the wizard asked.

"I will be in time, thanks," she answered.

Harry's assistant bid her to take a seat in his office. "He had to run an errand, he should be back shortly."

When he returned, he saw her sad, tired face and gave her a soft kiss. "They let you off early?"

She shook her head. "Unpaid leave of absence until the trial. Division policy."

"Come on, let's get you home."

* * *

At home, the events of the day caught up with her and she cried herself to sleep in Harry's arms. She felt beyond foolish that she was goaded into a duel by an idiotic scum bag, embarrassed that she was arrested in front of dozens of people, sad that she was in essence kicked out of her office for the foreseeable future, and felt guilty that she had put her perfectly wonderful boss in such an awkward position. The telephone rang and Harry quickly answered it.

"_How's my favorite jailbird?" _Grace asked.

"She's had a rough day. She cried herself to sleep."

_"What exactly is she charged with?"_

"Public dueling, disturbing the peace, and assault."

_"What's the other one charged with?"_

"The same plus stalking and libel."

_"I know that the laws for you magical folks are different from ours, but where does she stand?"_

"The head of the Office of Magical Law, her boss, is defending her. Her chances of a lesser fine and minimal jail time is good."

_"Jail time, my goodness."_

"The public dueling charge is one of those obscure laws that might be dismissed; however, the Wizengamot will take the disturbing the peace and assault charges seriously. In any case, it's all just supposition until the trial. She's on an unpaid leave of absence."

_"I'll wager that she's none too happy about that."_

"She admires her boss, so she feels really guilty that she's put him in an imposition."

_"Does she need any financial help since she won't be getting paid?_

"As long as I have breath in my body, she'll never do without, so I've got that covered. She said she's not worrying about food because she's putting herself on bread and water to prepare for jail food."

_"She's sounding a tad emotional at the moment."_

"She'll see things in a better light tomorrow. Her brain just has to reset, as she would say."

_"All right, take care of her, and I'll come by with the baby tomorrow. Evelyn always makes her feel better."_

**

After breakfast, Harry said he'd do his best to stop in at lunch, if only for a few minutes. Hermione was quiet, a little too quiet for his taste, but he wasn't worried enough to say anything yet. _Everything's that's happened has probably just settled in her mind and she's contemplating her next move. _When Harry was gone and the dishes put away, she simply went back to bed.

She woke to the sound of someone knocking on the door. She answered it and found her mum and Evelyn there. She baby squealed and reached for her. Automatically, Hermione chuckled and took the baby in her arms. She breathed in the scent of the baby's hair and skin.

"So, how are you? Really?" Grace asked and they sat on the couch.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm fine, just feeling a bit down. I know what I need to do, it's just hard to get motivated."

"My sweet girl, this is something you've never faced, is it?"

She shook her head.

"All you can do is tell your side of the story and let everything else unfold. You have a good barrister?"

"An _advocate_, yes, my boss. I'm very lucky."

"So, what's next? First things first, right?"

"Well, Master Allbright said that I should make a list of people who would vouch for me and get affidavits from them."

"After that?"

"Record my version of the incident. Everything that was said and done, as detailed as possible."

"Then?"

"Look at what I was charged with and the correlating punishments and see what kind of plea I can make."

"That's it?"

Hermione shrugged. "And that's it, for my part. The rest is up to my advocate."

"Well, you know what you need to do, so have you done any of it?"

She looked at herself, still in dressing gown and sleep-disheveled hair.

"I take that as a no. Pumpkin, I can imagine how vigorously you work for your own clients, so why won't you do the same for yourself? The Hermione I know doesn't sit around like a bump on a log, feeling sorry for herself. The Hermione I know would fight this tooth and nail."

Harry returned to see Hermione at lunch to find her on the treadmill, jogging at a brisk pace. Music was blaring through the headphones, sweat running down her face and neck, her t-shirt sticking to her damp back. She started singing to the music.

* * *

_"The only way out is through, the only way we'll get better-"*_

He turned down the volume on the stereo, prompting her to look and see what caused the change to her music. She smiled when she saw him, took off the headphones, and slowed the treadmill. He held up a bag of take-away.

"Did your mum drop in?" he asked as they ate.

She nodded. "It was just what I needed. Why didn't you tell me I was being such a bump on a log?"

"Honestly, I think that I may say something wrong and make everything you're going through worse," he said.

"It is what it is, nothing you can say can make it worse. I didn't murder anyone; I lost my temper and threw few spells, now I have to deal with the consequences. Moping around and doing nothing isn't the answer either. I need to just get my quaffles in a row and deal with December tenth."

"Do mine ears deceive me? Did you just use a Quidditch word?"

She responded by tossing a chip.

**

On the eve of her hearing, Hermione took dinner from the oven. She sniffed the baking dish appreciatively. She and Harry tucked in, not saying much during the meal.

"This might be my last good meal for a while," Hermione said, thinking that she had made an exceptional Shepherd's Pie that evening. "This turned out good, didn't it?"

"_Stop_. Do you remember what you said? You didn't murder anyone. Besides that, that jerk is facing the same charges," Harry said.

"Take care of Crooks for me," she said and sopped up the remaining sauce with bread. "Harry, stop looking at me like that. I have to prepare myself for whatever happens."

"Kingsley hates this, you know."

"I know, but he can't play favorites, that wouldn't be fair. The world has to see that everyone gets the same treatment under the law. If anything, I think that this entire experience will make me a better advocate."

She took his hand and stood. "Come on, let's go to bed. I want to make some more fond memories to sustain me during the long nights in jail."

"What about this?" he said, gesturing to the dishes.

"That can wait."

**Three days later...**

Allbright wanted Hermione to be the last to be questioned, to have her testimony fresh in their minds when they made their judgment.

"I call Hermione Granger to be questioned."

Hermione rose from the table and took her seat in the chair for questioning.

"Miss Granger, please give this court your account of the events of Friday, November 27, 2009."

**

An hour later, Kingsley spoke. "Master Advocate Allbright, you may make your final case statement."

Allbright nodded and rose. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced before the Wizengamot as he spoke.

"Minister, Interrogators, and Wizengamot members, today you've heard the truthful testimony of the accused regarding the events of the day in question, and viewed the pensive of the events. You've listened to Miss Granger's reasons behind the events of that unfortunate day and you've heard of her sincere regret for her actions. You've heard the testimony of the witnesses and read the affidavits regarding her unwavering goodness of character and spirit. Miss Granger is certainly not a criminal nor is she a dangerous element to society in any way, shape, or form. She is simply a young witch who admits to have felt threatened, lost her temper, and experienced a lapse in her normally good judgment. I implore you to consider every element of this case when you render judgment."

He patted Hermione on the shoulder and took his seat. Now all they could do was wait.

**

After he recited the Wizengamot's verdict, Kingsley looked at Hermione with his eyes full of apology and regret, before leaving the Wizengamot chambers. Hermione gave him a quick understanding smile, not at all angry. Harry, on the other hand, was the very definition of the saying _if looks could kill_ as he glared at Kingsley. He glared at the Hit Wizard that entered the chambers to escort Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I did the best I could," Allbright said.

"I know, and I thank you," she replied and shrugged. "It's only a week, I'll be fine."

"Do you want me to file an appeal about the fine? I still think it's a bit exorbitant," he said.

As far as she was concerned, the entire situation was her fault, and hers alone. She could have simply just kept on walking that day. Her one small comfort was that Crittendon was given the same sentence and would return in another trial to answer for the stalking and libel charge. She mouthed _I love you_ to Harry as the Hit Wizard placed the shackles around her wrists. He felt Harry's glare at his back.

"The shackles aren't too tight, are they?" he asked loudly, so Harry could hear.

"No, they're fine," she said and gave Harry a wink before leaving the chambers.

If everyone didn't already know about the trial, they found out the next day on the front page of The Daily Prophet and a half dozen other papers.

_**WAR HEROINE SENTENCED!!**_

_**After a riveting three day trial, war heroine and Ministry Legal Advocate Hermione Granger was found guilty of third degree magical assault and sentenced to seven days at the minimum security, short-term confinement facility at the Chelmsford House of Correction for Witches. Additionally, Miss Granger was fined one thousand galleons for the charge of disturbing the peace, and will serve ten days of community service for the charge of public dueling. Master Advocate Wilford Allbright, advocate for Miss Granger, spoke after the judgment. **_

_**"I am of course disappointed with the verdict, but Miss Granger above all knows and accepts the collective judgment of the Wizengamot. She will walk into the Chelmsford facility with her head held high, and leave the facility with her head held just as high to resume her duties as an Advocate in her usual stellar fashion. She has the unwavering support of her family, friends, and her extended family at the Office of Magical Law."**_

_**Milton Crittendon, former reporter for **__**Wizarding World Weekly**__**, was given the same sentence as Miss Granger, and will stand trial upon release from his own sentence for charges of stalking and libel against Miss Granger. Harry Potter, beau of Miss Granger, was described as "enraged" when Miss Granger was escorted from the Wizengamot chambers and offered no comment. **_

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

Yes folks, she's going to jail.

* from the song **Out is Through** by _Alanis Morrisette_

And for those who are wondering about the difference between Hit Wizards and Aurors, (good HP reference material) tells the difference:

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement maintains squads of trained Hit-Witches and Wizards whose job it is to capture dangerous wizarding criminals...The Hit-Wizards are not the same as Aurors. Hit-Wizards, it would seem, are sent primarily against criminals while Aurors track down and capture Dark Wizards."

**


	20. Chapter 20

_Jail is much easier on people who have nothing. **Bernard Goetz **_

_**

* * *

**_

"Where is he?" Harry asked, looking everywhere for the cat. He promised he would take care of the cat if Hermione "_got sent to the big house_," as she put it.

"He'll show once he notices people here," Ginny said.

As if on cue, the cat trotted in through the cat door and went straight for Harry. He picked him up and scratched behind his ears.

"Wanna come stay with me? Your mum won't be back for a while," Harry said.

Ginny tossed cat food and toys in a bag. "I still can't believe they sent her to jail! Our Hermione in jail! It's insane!"

The warden at Chelmsford prepared for the facility's newest inmate. He couldn't remember that last time someone of Hermione's status came to the jail and was admittedly a bit surprised at the verdict. _So much for friends in high places!_ He prided himself on running a well-ordered facility, because a well-ordered facility made for less incidents with the inmates and increased funding. Two guards waited at the gate for the arrivals. At three p.m. a Hit Wizard and Hermione Apparated, she stumbling a bit due to the fact that she didn't have her hands available to steady herself. The Hit Wizard steadied her and they went to the front gate. The other witches milling about the small, manicured grounds stopped what they were doing and watched as a witch in a classy pant suit and expensive shoes was given to the custody of the Chelmsford House of Correction for Witches.

"Good luck, Hermione," the Hit Wizard said.

"Thanks, Bryce," she said and faced the guards. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"To you as well, miss. This way."

In the inmate processing room, a inmate and a guard came in and left three gray and white striped robes, basic black loafers, a gray dressing robe, a toothbrush, tooth powder, bar of soap, comb, and a towel on a table. The inmate left and the guard stayed to speak.

"You will wear these robes during the length of your stay in the facility. Place your wand, your clothes, and belongings you arrived with inside of the box located in the changing room behind you, with the exception of your under things and any feminine items you require. The items will be returned to you upon completion of your sentence. This is a facility for non-violent offenders, so I trust that I can remove the shackles?"

She nodded and held up her hands. He removed the shackles and nodded at a one-way mirror. "You may now change into the inmate robes, the warden will be in to speak with you in ten minutes time."

Minutes later, she stood in a striped wool robe and stiff black loafers. She sighed at the sight of her Bill Blass pant suit and Jimmy Choos in the box. The warden came in, shook her hand, and waited for the previous guard to come in with two chairs. They sat and he flipped through her file.

"I must say that I'm surprised to see a witch of your caliber in this facility," he said.

"No more than I am, sir," she replied.

"As you can see, this is not Azkaban, nor do we strive to emulate that horrid place. This correctional facility houses those who have committed minor offenses such as petty thievery, public disturbances, fraud, and lesser degrees of assault," he said, nodding at her. "Once you have been shown to your bed in the barracks, you may write to a family member or spouse to let them know that you have arrived in good health to start your sentence."

He gave her a slim piece of parchment. "This is the information regarding outside visitors, I recommend that you include it in the letter. Do you have any questions?"

She shook her head.

"Understandable. Things are a bit of a shock to you right now. Chelmsford rules are posted in the common room and in the barracks. To help keep the inmates occupied, a list of assigned tasks are placed in the common room every morning. Failure to abide by the rules and refusing to perform your assigned tasks will result in placement in one of the solitary wards and revocation of privileges."

He nodded at the one-way mirror and they stood. "Guard Mooresby will show you to your barracks. Good day, Miss Granger."

_Good day, he says. _

In the barracks, which held 20 beds,Guard Mooresby stopped at her bunk.

"Remember, you are bunk 18. The common room is that way, the bathrooms are that way. You are permitted to socialize with the inmates of the other two barracks during free time if you wish. Mealtimes are at seven a.m., noon, and five p.m. Health concerns can be brought to any guard at any time and you will be brought to the jail medi-witch. Are you currently taking any medications?"

"Does birth control count?"

"Yes," he said and noted it on his clipboard. "Anything else?"

"I have occasional nightmares that require a mild calming elixir. That's it."

He noted that on the clipboard.

"Good luck, Miss Granger."

She placed the meager jail amenities in the small trunk below the bed and took the supplied parchment, quill and Visitor Policy Letter to the common room. A few witches gave the newest inmate a quick once-over and continued with whatever they were doing. She sat and read the letter.

**Chelmsford House of Correction for Witches **

_**Policies for Inmate Visits **_

**Inmates are not discouraged from having visits, as it has been shown to be beneficial to the mental state of the inmates. However, for the safety and well-being of the inmates, the following policies are strictly enforced:**

**- Visiting times are permitted every day at the following times: **

**9:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. **

**1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. **

**Times can be adjusted for family emergencies and pre-arranged times from Advocates regarding important legal matters.**

**- Visitors may bring hygiene/personal items for the inmates. Visitors may also bring food and beverages for the inmates, as some inmates may have special dietary needs. **

**- Visitors may bring entertainment items such as reading materials, playing cards, parchment, quills. **

**- Physical contact between visitors and inmates is limited and no sexual intercourse will be permitted between visitors and inmates. **

_Well, there goes my plan to seduce Harry after breakfast,_ she thought with a snort, and although she could see the reasoning behind that rule, conjugal visits would make for happier inmates, right? She set the quill to parchment to start her letter to Harry.

_**Harry,**_

_**I'm here in the common area of the barracks. Tell my parents that I'm in good health and in a fairly good state of mind. Please take note of the visitor's rules. I don't have much time to write, the line for supper is forming. I hope to see you tomorrow. Tell Crooks hi for me. I miss you so very much already. **_

_**Love, Hermione **_

She put the letters in the outgoing post box and joined the line for supper, which consisted of a rather bland potato soup, a slice of bread, a choice of apple or orange, and a pot of tea in the middle of each table. Hermione counted the number of people in the room at 62.

"Can I sit here?" a quiet voice asked at her elbow.

"Of course, there's plenty of room," she said, indicating the five other empty chairs.

Hermione waited until the girl was settled and asked if she wanted tea.

"I'm Hermione, and you are...?"

"Cor, miss, everyone here knows who you are! It's the big news today, a witch like you in here!" the girl said. "I'm Belinda, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Belinda."

The younger witch started babbling about anything and everything. Hermione did her best to respond, considering the surreal situation of being faced with a Chatty Kathy doll her first night in jail.

_"I got three months, can you imagine!"_

"Um...no."

_"I get put on laundry detail more than anyone else!"_

"That's...unfortunate."

_"You see that guard over there by the brown window? He's good-looking, you know?"_

"I guess so."

_"So, what do you think?"_

"About what?"

_"All of this?"_

"I've only been here a little over an hour, so I don't really know yet."

_"Oh, this is my third time, so I can tell you it's an alright place."_

The "good-looking" guard rang a bell after a half hour. The occupants in the dining room filed quickly from the room.

"What's the hurry?" Hermione asked her chatty supper companion.

"The post."

She watched half the number receive mail. Some were visibly upset at receiving nothing, while some just shrugged off the disappointment.

"What now?" Hermione asked.

"Come on," Belinda said, pulling on Hermione's robes to bring her to a timetable on the wall beside the entrance to the common room and pointed at it.

"This is important. The guards don't like it if you don't follow it."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said and read the timetable, making a face at how regimented it was.

"You'll get used to it," Belinda said. "Although six is kind of early to be getting up, I think."

Hermione shrugged. "I get up at that time anyway. No big deal."

She gathered her shower things and waited in line, which was already at least twenty witches deep. When it was her turn under a shower nozzle, she looked at the soap she was holding and wondered if it was all right to use on her hair.

_I'm in jail, does it really matter? _

She noticed other witches doing the same, so she lathered up enough for her hair. When she also noted a couple of witches looking at her body much like Harry would, she washed faster and made a quick exit. She had nothing to do during free time, and although Belinda would have probably enjoyed a conversation, she just didn't feel like it. She went to the common room and stared out of the window, envious of the birds flying free, coming and going as they pleased. From across the room, Belinda and another witch chatted quietly about her.

"So, how is she?"

"She's nice. She didn't tell me to go away or shut up."

"She hasn't cried or flipped out yet. She's just quiet."

"A lot are like that their first night."

When the lights went out, some were softly crying into the quietness of the barracks. Some talked with each other, not ready to end their conversations. Most just lay there and stared at the walls or ceiling, while the snores of a few were already heard. Hermione stared blankly at the wall, contemplating the most miserable, humiliating day of her life.

* * *

She was startled by the wake-up bell and frowned at the guard ten feet away holding the bell. _Wanker! _The uniformed wizard's lips twitched and he left the barracks. She changed out of the gray dressing robe and into the striped inmate robe. _Not much of an improvement. _She felt her head and bemoaned the state of her hair. After using only bar soap and a comb the night before, she could only imagine what her hair looked like.

_Again, I'm in jail, does it matter?_

She waited in line for the toilet and a turn at a mirror. At the thought of being one of twenty witches queuing up for five toilets, four showers, and two mirrors, she would never take it for granted again. _And I only have to put up with it for seven days! What about those in here for months and years! _

Breakfast was just as dismal as last night's supper. Lumpy porridge, a slice of bread, and the wondrous selection of tea _or_ juice rounded out the feast. After breakfast, she looked at the Daily Task chart.

_Granger: Report to the Administrative Station _

Everyone scampered away to start their tasks, leaving her suddenly looking around empty barracks room. Guard Wanker-Bell-Ringer came into the barracks.

"Granger, administrative duties are in the main building. Follow me."

The condescending prat of a guard attempted to make conversation, but she would have none of it. She wouldn't tolerate that, not even in this place. Additionally, last night's soup and the morning's porridge were wreaking havoc on her stomach. In the main building, the warden's assistant took one look at her and shook her head.

"Oh dear, not a good morning for you, is it?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head and suddenly retched on the guard's feet. After seeing the Medi-witch, Hermione was given the task of organizing the Chelmsford records room. It was enough of a mess to keep her busy, which was a blessing in disguise. Time passed quickly and before she knew it, visitor's time was announced. Guard Vomit-On-His-Shoes put his head in the door.

"Granger, visiting time."

The guard couldn't help but be impressed that none other than Harry Potter was there for her, with a large bag of things for the newest inmate. She practically ran to the Visitor's Building, saw Harry waiting outside, and threw herself into his arms.

"How are you, love?" he asked.

"This place isn't a house of horrors I've been imagining, but it's quite dreary nonetheless. I think I'm kind of depressed and my stomach is a wreck from the food."

The two hours went by too fast for her taste. She felt like crying when she saw the five minutes left on the clock. For a crazy second, she thought of asking Harry to take her away from this place. He took her hand and whispered furiously.

_"It's insane that you're in here! Just say the word and I'll get you out of here. I can blast you out of here, it would be easy! We can go away, somewhere far away where we will never be bothered again!"_

"And be criminals for the rest of our lives," she finished.

He nodded. "Yeah, just a crazy thought. You just look so sad and angry, and the thought of you in here...it's hard to take; but if you can take it, so can I. Someone will be here to visit you every day, I promise. I love you."

The second day passed much like the first. Harry came in the morning, her parents in the afternoon. The visits lifted her spirits, as did the treats they brought. The biscuits, crisps, muffins, granola bars, fudge galleons, and mixed nuts was like manna from heaven.

"Got a steak and baked potato in that bag?" she asked.

"We'll hit a steakhouse when you get out," he said.

By the fourth day of her confinement, she was accustomed to the schedule and found herself doling out free legal advice on her free time. She didn't mind; it was better than the work in the records room. She learned that most of the witches in Chelmsford were repeat offenders, and that doing time in the jail was part and parcel for some of them.

_"At least I get a bed, a roof over my head, and three meals a day while I'm here; can't say that on the outside,_" many of them said.

Harry kept his promise and visited every day, either in the morning or afternoon. Her supply of treats was overflowing her small trunk, so she ended up sharing the growing stash with the barracks, as well as the dozen different magazines that made their way around after showers. The nights were the worst. Her arms ached to hold Harry, and occasionally her sad and lonely thoughts caught up with her and she sobbed into her pillow. Becoming accustomed to a routine was one thing, the place itself was another thing entirely.

On the seventh and final evening, she gifted her stash of treats, magazines, parchment, magazines, shampoo, and soap to Belinda.

"Use it well, enjoy it, share it," Hermione said. "Just try and promise me one thing."

"The best I can do is try," Belinda replied.

"Come and see me at the Ministry when your time here is finished. You're too young and too smart for all of this. Please try not to think of this place as a second home, okay? There are options for you," Hermione said.

Belinda nodded sheepishly. "Okay, I can try. Three months is a long time to think, especially in this place."

"Is it ever."

* * *

**December 21, 2009**

At 8 a.m. Hermione dropped her jail robe and loafers in a box in the inmate's processing room and changed back into the pant suit and shoes she arrived in. Her hair was a lamentable mess, but that would be sorted out when she got home. A guard came into the processing room, signed her other belongings back to her, and opened the door for her to leave. The warden was waiting for her.

"You have completed your seven day confinement, as sentenced by the Wizengamot. You are free to go, good luck, Miss Granger."

She nodded and marched to the door. She didn't begrudge the man, he was just doing his job, but she really had nothing to say to him. She just wanted to walk out and never give the place another thought, but she knew that this experience was something she would never forget. When she walked into the cold sunshine, she stopped, closed her eyes, and breathed deep. She heard someone clearing their throat, and as if an answer to a prayer, Harry was there. She ran into his open arms and held him tightly, as if he were life and she was clinging to it.


	21. Chapter 21

_God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. **Reinhold Niebuhr, American theologian **_

_**

* * *

**_

**December 22**

Harry Apparated the two of them directly into her living room. She saw the room and gasped. The biggest Christmas tree she had ever seen was situated in the corner between her desk and the fireplace. Gaily decorated, complete with presents underneath, caused her to burst out in happy tears.

"It's just what I need," she said and sniffed.

"So these are happy tears?" he asked and she nodded in return. "You're out of that place, just in time for the holidays. I know it's something you're not going to forget, but something to move past, perhaps? I plan to make sure that you're too happy to even think of it. So in the spirit of happy thoughts, perhaps a hot bubble bath is in order?"

She lay back on her bed, taking in the sight and scents of the room. She would never take anything for granted ever again, even the sound of Harry whistling a tune as he prepared her bath. She went to her dresser drawers and ran her hands over all of the soft and sheer things in the top drawer, and took in the fragrance of the body sprays and perfumes on top. She could still smell the lye on her skin that was present in the jail soap. _Ugh._

"It's ready, love," he said.

With heated eyes, Harry watched her undress and sink into the hot, fragrant water.

"Perfect," she whispered and laid her head back, savoring the glorious feeling.

He slowly and gently washed her hair (twice, as it was necessary) and lathered her body to the point that both were breathing deeply and gazing at each other with hooded eyes. Wordlessly, she rose from the bin and let him lovingly pat her dry. He chose a lotion from the cupboard and let her see his choice. She nodded and they relaxed on the bed.

"Damn, your back is stiff," he said, applying more pressure to her lower back with his palms.

"Those jail beds are pathetic," she said. "They're not beds really, like camp cots, but worse."

He moved to massage her supple arse globes, causing her to shudder in aroused pleasure. "That makes me forget about my back. Don't stop."

"Your wish is my will," he said with a chuckle and placed a soft kiss on each of her cheeks and massaged vigorously.

Slow strokes moved to brush the lips of her quim, causing her to groan and lift her hips. She had been without a gentle, loving touch for so long that it was overwhelming and wonderful. She suddenly felt his bare skin on hers and looked back at him.

"Turn over," he urged softly.

She did and he massaged lotion on her stomach and neck, saving her breasts for last. She felt his erection on her hip and smiled.

"What are you smiling at?"

"You."

When his hands moved to her breasts, her smile was replaced by a look of concentrated pleasure.

"What are you thinking?" he asked as he kneaded and palmed her breasts.

"I was thinking about how much I love it when you touch me."

"Oh?" he asked and added his lips to the task, flicking a nipple with his tongue. "And this?"

She nodded. "That too."

He moved back and forth from her neck and breasts, not wanting to leave either pleasurable area untouched. She surprised him by gently pushing him on his back and straddling his hips.

"Yes, take it, it's all yours," he said.

She stroked him for a few aggressive strokes before she sank down on him. His back arched and he grasped her hips. She rolled her hips, letting her head fall back, relishing the feeling of taking him in deep with every forward sway of her hips. He sat up, cradling her in his arms, again massaging and suckling her breasts as she bucked and rolled her hips. No words were said, nor were any needed. Her hips rolled faster, her skin slapping against his, her unintelligible cries mixed with her gasps and moans. She shuddered and stiffened, crying out Harry's name and "_Yes fuck yes_!" as she climaxed, rolling her hips decadently as the waves of pleasure coursed through her. He rolled her on her back and continued. Placing her legs over his arms, he plunged deep, looking down to where their bodies joined and cried out when he felt his own climax approaching. The feel of her legs locked around his hips, her nails raking his back, and her exclamations of passion made him once again feel fortunate that he was a man bringing the ultimate pleasure to his woman.

_"Fuck yes,"_ he growled and thrust harder, prompted by her cries to let him know that she was going to come again. The headboard thumped against the wall when he came, plunging as deep as he could with each surge of his release. He was panting, feeling himself going flaccid as she placed feather-light kisses on his chest and neck. He lay down beside her and pulled the bedcovers over them both. She curled into his side, an arm and leg falling over him.

"Thank you, love," she said and was asleep in minutes.

He woke and looked at the clock. 2:45 a.m. He slipped carefully out of bed, dressed quickly, and went back to his home. He called for Crooks and gathered the cat's things.

"Hey there, cat, your mum's back, hope it hasn't been too terrible here," he said when he picked him up.

Crooks gave a meow in answer and butted his chin with his head. Cat and wizard returned to her flat, both returning to the bed.

When the clock read 8:30 a.m. he rested on an elbow and watched a feline alarm clock attempt to wake his mum. Crooks butted her cheek, burrowed through her hair, and commenced to licking her ear. Her nose scrunched in half-awake, half-sleep awareness and she opened her eyes. She sat up and cuddled with the cat, who patiently tolerated her coddling.

"Crooks! My sweet boy!" she said and scratched his favorite place behind the ears. "You know what? I think it's a waffle kind of morning."

"Sounds great," he murmured and started suckling her breasts, "after a bit of rogering," he added and tapped the end of her nose.

She snorted and giggled at his euphemism. She suspected that he picked up many of his euphemisms for sex from Ron. Some were mildly amusing at best, some just plain idiotic at worst.

_"A rogering," or "a jolly good rogering."_

_"Laying hot wand to a witch."_

_"A bit of all right."_

_"NEWTS, nicely exhausting witch treatment," _one of Ron's originals and the most idiotic.

"Well, it better be a _jolly good_ rogering for me to delay waffles," she teased.

"As opposed to just a _bit_ of rogering?" he asked.

"These aren't just waffles," Harry said and stuffed another bite in his mouth, "ith ot."

He had tried many toppings on her waffles, but spiced apples was his favorite. She piled strawberries and whipped cream on hers.

"Art?" she said.

He nodded and took a large swig of milk. "It's art."

The telephone rang, so she wiped her mouth and left the table to answer.

_"So you're a free woman again?" _

"So it appears."

_"Do you feel like dropping by for lunch, or do you have to get back to work?"_

"I'm on holiday, I applied for it weeks ago. Lunch would be nice."

_"Noonish then?"_

"Noonish it is. Should I bring anything?"

_"Just yourself, pumpkin."_

"Okay, see you this afternoon. Love you."

_"Love you too, say hello to Harry for me."_

"How do you know he's here?"

_"First off, I hear his enthusiastic eating in the background. Secondly, where else would he be?"_

"See you later."

She returned to the table. "I'm going to lunch at my parent's place today."

"Figured as much."

"Coming?"

"No, they should have you all to their selves today."

"Love, that's silly, they're crazy about you. As much as I am, I'd wager."

"Besides that, I have some Christmassy things to do today. Tonight you're mine, however. We have reservations at Aberdeen Steak House, just like I promised."

When he returned to take her to supper, he saw that she was finally smiling freely and the spark was back in her eyes. She babbled happily about Evelyn's latest achievement and laughed about on her dad's latest hobby of interest, which was on-line poker. Love, as Dumbledore often said, was the key to happiness of many souls. For some, it was money. For others, work. For those like Ron, Quidditch. Not for Hermione though. She thrived and was her happiest when surrounded by family and friends, and it showed. He also knew that without a doubt that she was the key to his happiness and he planned to make sure she never doubted it. While they were waiting for their table at the steakhouse, they were interrupted by a friendly voice at their backs.

"My word, is that little Hermione?"

They turned around and saw a couple her parent's age.

"I beg your pardon, but have we met?" she asked.

"Look, Lewis, just as polite as Ian and Gracie," the woman said.

"They raised her well," the man said. "You don't remember me, but I'm a friend of your father's, Lewis Sutton, from university. The last time I saw you, you were about to leave for some boarding school in Scotland."

"Mr. Sutton...the one who almost leaped from Tower Bridge because of a dare?" she asked.

"Of all the things to remember," Mrs. Sutton said.

"Daddy has lots of stories from his school days," Hermione said. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Hmm...it's been about five years I reckon."

"They had a baby, she turns two in March."

"At their age, my goodness," Mrs. Sutton said.

"Is that a fact? My goodness indeed. Do they still have a surgery over there by Hyde Park?"

"Yes, and they opened a second one in Camberwell."

A hostess appeared. "Sutton, table for two?"

"It's good to see you again, dear, good night to both of you."

"To you as well, sir," Hermione said.

_"...and such a nice young lady,"_ Mrs. Lewis was saying as they walked away.

Minutes later they were shown to their own table and they placed their orders.

"I went through my pile of mail and saw the invitation to the Midnight Champagne Supper at the Ministry on Christmas," she said. "I get one every year, but I've never went."

"Lucky you, I get...volun_told_ every year to attend," he said and thanked the server when he brought their drinks.

"Fancy a date this year?" she asked.

"Are you sure? It's dead boring," he said.

"Yes, so sure that Katie and me are going to buy new gowns tomorrow for said dead boring event," she said.

"Just don't knock over a serving tray of drinks and we'll be fine," he said.

She looked at him curiously.

"Last year, a bloke from the office asked me to take her sister to the supper," he said.

"Oh," she said blandly and took a sip of her drink. She had no interest in any of Harry's past witches. _Gee, Hermione, jealous much? _

"It's more like _uh-oh_. She was 18 and one of those people who shouldn't drink. She knocked my glasses from my face the one time we danced, flirted with every wizard that walked by, and knocked a serving tray of champagne from a passing server for her final performance of the evening."

"At least she was entertaining."

"Ha ha. She even had the nerve to tell her brother how awful I was to her. Luckily, he knew me well enough to know that it wasn't true. All I did was stop her from humping the guitar player's leg."

Her laughter was bubbling out when the server brought their steaks.

**Diagon Alley, the next day**

"They usually have a better selection," Katie said when they left Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "That's what I get for waiting until the last minute."

"In my defense, I just got out of jail," Hermione said wryly. "I have some nice gowns at home, but I want something new, something..._fabulous_. Harry hasn't had a good time at this event in the past, I want to look good for him."

"Honey, by the way he looks at you, he thinks you would good in a burlap sack," Katie said.

As they approached the second hand robe shop, none other than Milton Crittendon emerged from the shop. He took one look at Hermione and sneered.

"Just ignore him," Katie said and the two crossed the street.

"Well well, if it isn't the pretty little jailbird," he sang and laughed.

"Keep ignoring him," Katie urged. "Let's go The Leaky for a drink, all this shopping has made me thirsty."

At The Leaky Cauldron, Hannah Longbottom greeted them with "Happy Holidays!" and served two Butterbeers.

"That walking piece of shit is like a virus," Hermione said and gulped down her drink. "Look, he's there across the street, pretending to read a paper. He's just waiting for me to leave to start goading me again."

"I know, but think of it this way. You now have more against him when you go back to the Wizengamot for his next trial. You both just got out jail, but apparently hasn't learned his lesson. You walked away and said nothing, but he followed us and taunted you all the way here."

"I see your point," Hermione said and signaled for another drink.

"Well, I do have them from time to time," Katie said.

* * *

"You make a wicked stir-fry," Harry said, abandoning the chopsticks for a fork.

She poured duck sauce over her serving. "The shrimp isn't over cooked?"

He picked a shrimp from his noodles and popped it in his mouth. "Nope, perfect. So how did your shopping go today?"

"We ended up going to Muggle London. I'm think I spent too much. Katie _knows_ she did, and something else happened too."

"Is it bad?"

She shrugged. "We ran into Crittendon today."

He grew solemn when she told him what happened.

"Katie's right, he's just digging a deeper hole for himself," she said.

"A hole I'd like to throw him in and fill with dirt," he said.

"Percy said his trial should be next month, so I just have to put up with him until then," she said.

"You shouldn't have to put up with it," he said.

"He's not giving up, he said as much today. He said he'll go to jail with a smile on his face for making my life hell," she said. "All this from a silencing spell at a cemetery."

"Katie's right, he _is_ digging a deeper hole. I'm glad someone was with you today, as a witness."

"Oh! Something good did happen today, apart from a sale at Prada. Ron ventured to The Leaky Cauldron and he stayed to have a drink with us. Before I knew it, there was some flirting going on between Katie and him. There was something different about him, a good different."

Harry frowned. "Katie's a nice girl."

"I know, but don't worry about her. Ron knows that she's a nice girl, but if he fancies a sliver of a chance with her, he needs to realize that she's also a tough _woman_ who doesn't put up with any crap. He's going to have to actually work this time."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

**December 24, Grimmauld Place**

Harry's holiday party was in full swing. Teddy, Andromeda, The Weasleys, eight people from his office, Katie, and Clarice were talking, eating, laughing, drinking and encouraging Hermione to take a turn at the piano. Teddy sat next to her on the bench and watched her play, fascinated as her fingers moved over the keys. Hermione and Harry exchanged an amused glance when they saw Ron and Katie talking quietly in a quieter corner of the library. When 10 p.m. approached, Andromeda and Teddy thanked Harry for the party. It was way past Teddy's bedtime, and of course the boy disagreed, but his yawn and drooping eyes told otherwise.

"I'll come and see you again before you go back to school," Harry said. "I want to know how you're doing at Hogwarts, how things are with your friends, school stuff."

"Of course, if he wrote home more often..." Andromeda teased.

Teddy rolled his eyes. Harry understood that 12 year old boys just didn't sit down and pen letters as much as the 12 year old girls did. He chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair.

"When you come over...can you bring Hermione? Do you think she would mind helping me with some things? It's just that she set a lot of records with her marks 'cause she's so smart, so I figured-" the boy babbled, slightly embarrassed.

Harry saved him from further embarrassment. "I'll ask her, but I'm sure that she'd enjoy helping you."

Boy and grandmother gave Harry one last hug, a quick wave to Hermione, and left. He returned to the party to see Hermione performing her unofficial role of hostess, navigating through the throng of party-goers with a pitcher of Butterbeer and making sure everyone was having a good time. She caught his eye and joined him, refilling his mug.

"It's going to be much quieter at my parent's home," she said. They were planning to spend most of Christmas Day at the Grangers the next day.

"That's not a bad thing, just different," he said and glanced at something over her shoulder.

His lips twitched, causing her to look at what amused him. Luna and Crooks were on the couch, and Luna was talking earnestly to the cat. Amazingly enough, the cat was sitting there; his tail wrapped neatly around himself and appeared to be listening to her. Crooks never paid more than ten seconds of attention to her, except when he wanted food. He would look around imperiously, flick his tail impatiently, or lick his paws in boredom.

"That's amazing," Hermione said.

"She's a naturalist, so she has an affinity for animals," Harry pondered with a shrug.

Just after midnight, Harry wished the last of the party-goers a happy Christmas and closed the door.

"What a party," he said and flopped down on the couch

She was flitting about the room, cleaning and straightening the library before she moved to the dining room.

"Thank goodness it's only this room, the dining room, and the kitchen or we'd be here all night cleaning," she said.

"You don't have to do that," he said.

"If it's not done now, we'll wake up to the mess. Do you want to wake up to a mess on Christmas morning? Besides, we do have magic, remember? It'll take no time at all," she said.

**In the morning..**.

"I really need to go to the market," Harry said, taking bowls from the cupboard. "We shouldn't be having cold cereal on Christmas morning."

"Then let's go my flat, I can whip up some waffles," she said.

Ron came into the dining room and went straight for the cupboard stash of Every Wizard's Hang-Over Elixir.

"I'm making waffles, want to join us for breakfast?" Hermione asked.

"No thanks, I told mum I'd be at the house today," Ron said and poured the elixir in a cup of tea Harry slid to him. "The whole family will be there, so there'll be a huge breakfast."

"Tell them hi for me, I'll drop by later," she said.

"Me too," Harry said.

"Sure thing, Happy Christmas," Ron said and left the kitchen, throwing a quick wink at Harry.

**At Hermione's flat...**

"I need to go back to the house to change," Harry said when he took the last bite of his waffles.

"But you look fine," she said.

"I'm not going to your parent's home for a holiday occasion in a jeans and t-shirt," he said and gave her a quick kiss.

She shrugged. "All right, see you in a bit," she said to the floo, coating the last bites of her waffle in syrup.

Seconds after Harry left by floo, the cat door swung open and Crooks came in.

"There you are, I was wondering if I'd see you today," she cooed.

The cat sniffed the air, flicked his tail, and made his way to his bowl in his usual imperious manner.

"I got you something different, the pet shop is carrying some new kinds of food," she said.

He licked his paw without a care in the world. She took a tin of creamy salmon from the cupboard and opened it. He sniffed the air and started winding his way around her legs. She crouched to scratch behind his ears and under his chin, then filled his bowl. He _mrowed_ and settled down to eat.

"Now I want to change _my_ clothes," she said.

She rifled through her wardrobe and picked out an older but nice green cable-knit jumper and a brown broomstick skirt. She let her hair down and fussed with it to give it fuller "accidental-messy-on-purpose" (Ginny's words) look. Luna called it _windblown_, Katie called it _shag hair_. Whatever you called it, Harry liked her hair down, and it was easier, so she left it that way. The floo sounded.

"You here?" he called out.

"Yeah, just getting my shoes," she said.

She came back into the lounge to see him there with a green sack of presents and a Santa's helper hat on his head. He had changed into black trousers and a dark green button down shirt. He looked fantastic, even with the silly hat.

"You look beautiful," he said and buried his face in her hair.

"You should show up one day in your formal Auror uniform, mum would faint," she said and patted his chest.

At the Grangers, Ian warmly welcomed the two and was echoed by a happy squeal from Evie. She was moving fast along the furniture to make her way towards them.

"Hi kids!" Grace called from the kitchen.

"She's getting fast," Hermione said.

"The day care says that she's the fastest baby there," Ian said proudly. "Your mum's elbow deep in some kind of dough."

"I'll help," Hermione said and gave the baby to Harry.

She immediately went for his glasses, but he applied a sticking charm to them ahead of time. He laughed at the baby's confused frown as she tugged at the glasses, until the ball of fluff on the tip of the hat caught her attention.

"Come on lad, let's get these presents under the tree," Ian said to Harry. "I've got a nice bottle of sherry waiting to be enjoyed."

In the kitchen, Hermione was pressing Christmas tree shaped biscuit cutters into biscuit dough. Grace opened the oven to baste the turkey.

"That smells great," Hermione said.

"I decided to honey-bake it year, instead of herb-baked. Let's get some of these biscuits baking and join the others, it'll be at least an hour before the turkey is done."

"The bird smells fantastic," Ian said and gave Grace a glass of sherry.

Harry cleared his throat. "I know we're not going to open presents until after the meal, but I have a present for Hermione that just can't wait."

He summoned a flat box from under the tree and gave it to her. She opened it and saw a stack of parchment.

"It's a genealogical study," he said. "Haven't you always wondered where you got your magic? As powerful as you are, as naturally as it comes to you?"

"Love, I'm 30 years old, I would have found out before now, so I quit wondering about it. Muggles that have magic are an anomaly, it didn't come from anywhere."

"But what if it you aren't an anomaly?" Harry countered.

"If there was a person with magic in either of our lines, we would have known," Ian said. "I did an ancestry project at university."

"You did a _muggle _ancestry project, while I initiated a magical ancestry project on Hermione's behalf this past summer as a birthday present for her. I agree with the researchers at the Ministry about witches or wizards present in ancestral lines. Witchcraft persecution was rampant in the sixteenth and seventeenth century, so out of fear or embarrassment..."

"They quit magic," Hermione said.

"Did you find someone?" Ian asked.

"Let Hermione tell you. Go on love," he encouraged.

She read each page and flipped to the next, coming to the last page. She gasped and looked at Harry, then her father, then read the last entry on the last page.

"In 1620, Waverly Haskins, of Coventry, was accused of Witchcraft and burned at the stake," she read.

"There's no Haskins in my line, and no one in my line came from Coventry," Ian said.

"After Waverly was killed, they moved and changed their name to protect the family to prevent further suspicion," Hermione said. "They changed the family name to _Granger_ and moved to London."

"That's astonishing," Grace said.

"Clever too. There's so many Grangers in London, even at that time, so it would have been easier to blend in," Ian said. "I'll be right back," he said and left the room.

He returned minutes later with an old file of papers. "My university ancestry project."

He showed them the last page. "This is as far back as I could find, a Bernard Granger, who died in the revolution of 1688 in an anti-Catholic riot."

"And this Waverly Haskins was Bernard Granger's grandfather!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Simply astonishing," Ian said, echoing Grace's earlier sentiment.

"What about my line?" Grace asked.

"Sorry, Mrs. Granger, no magic there. Your ancestors consisted of knights, sailors, farmers, and you even had a member of parliament tucked in there a long time ago," Harry said, grinning.

**After the turkey, potatoes, stuffing, etc...**

"Here we are!" Grace said and emerged from the kitchen with a flaming Christmas pudding to general applause.

"Mum, that's the best ever!" Hermione said.

"If that's as good as the turkey was, I might be staying here for good," Harry said.

"That reminds me," Ian said. "I have a surprise, for Gracie mainly."

"Oh?" Grace asked and put slices of cake on plates.

"I got the insurance settlement three days ago," Ian said.

Gracie almost dropped the knife. "And you said nothing?" she asked.

"I wanted it to be a surprise for you...I couldn't figure out a way to leave it under the tree. We got the full settlement amount."

Grace gasped and hurried around the table to hug her husband. "We can start looking for a house!" she gushed.

"What a great present for them," Hermione said quietly to Harry and fed him a piece of cake.

"Delicious," he said softly and fed her a piece in return.

"Yes, quite delicious," she said, quickly licking her lips.

They were startled out of their own little temporary world by Gracie's voice. "The cake must be better than I thought," she said lightly.

When they finished with their cake, they went to the lounge for presents, music, Christmas telly programmes; just enjoying each other's company in the warm, cozy flat while snow fell heavily outside.

"Here, you first," Hermione said, giving Grace a large, heavy box. Harry gave Ian another box.

"They go together," he explained.

Grace gasped when she saw the box. It was the most elegant Noritake dinnerware on the market. Ian opened matching glassware.

"I'll use this for New Year's supper, you'll be here, won't you?" Grace asked, her eyes shining.

"Of course," Hermione said, winking at Harry. The matching glassware was his idea.

"These flutes look too elegant to use," he said, admiring one at different angles. "Fine gifts, you two, fine indeed."

Hermione opened her first present from her parents. It was a leather-bound, golden-gilded Jane Austen collection. She was speechless.

"I think she approves," Grace said. Hermione nodded and carefully turned the pages of _Mansfield Park._

"Harry, we sort of knew you would be with our pumpkin today, and we weren't sure what to get you," Grace said and gave him a present.

"We hope you like it," Ian said.

His gift was a billfold of the finest leather. He took his from his pocket and held it up for inspection. It was old, discolored, and barely held together.

"This is excellent, just what I needed," he said and started transferring the contents of the old billfold to the new.

Hermione gave him the next one. He was amazed when he saw the contents of the box. It contained Auror handbooks from 12 different countries from around the world.

"I thought you might like them as collector's items," she said.

"How did you get these?" he asked, flipping through the Afrikaans _Beskermer*_ manual.

"Hey, I'm a true bookworm," she said with a casual shrug.

"I can't wait to show these to the blokes at the office," he said.

Evie of course received a treasure trove of toys. Harry gave the fun toys while Hermione leaned toward the learning kind. She had already scattered the bin of brightly colored building blocks while banging on a kiddie drum. She looked at the adults and squealed in glee. Hermione couldn't help but to scoop the baby in her arms and laugh with her.

"Ginny's baby is due next month, so I'll have another pretty baby to cuddle," she said.

"How is she?" Grace asked.

"Exhausted most of the time, glad that it's almost over with," Hermione said.

Knocking was heard at the door.

"Who could that be? Surely a salesman wouldn't come calling on today of all days," Grace asked. "Ian, did you invite someone else today? No matter, we still have plenty of food..." she said, contemplating unexpected guest hospitality as Ian left the room.

_Right on time!_ Harry thought.

They heard the front door close and to everyone's (except Harry) surprise, Crooks trotted into the lounge as if he owned the place and went straight for Hermione.

"He was just sitting in front of the door," Ian said, perplexed.

"How did you get here?" she asked, spying a heavily-jeweled ring on the cat's collar.

Harry almost burst out laughing at her perplexed look. He could see just by the look on her face what she was thinking. Why or how did her cat suddenly appear at her parent's house, on Christmas, sporting a ring on his collar? Who got Crooks a ring?

"Cat jewelry? How odd," Hermione said.

"It's not for the cat, it's for the cat's mum...if she'll take it," Harry said, his mouth suddenly dry as the Sahara in July. He removed the cat's collar and slid the ring from it. Hermione was gazing at him, tears in her eyes. Grace was holding Ian's hand. He took a quick sip of sherry and cleared his throat.

"To me, this has been almost twenty years in the making. You took hold of a skinny, orphaned, eleven year old boy's heart and held on tight. We've been through the worst, seen each other at our worst, but being with you has been the best time of my life. Even now, after all these years, you still have hold of my heart and I'm happy for it. Marry me, Hermione, and I'll promise to love you as long as forever lasts."

She nodded, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and threw herself into his arms. Grace was reaching for another tissue.

"Good lord, that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard," she declared.

Harry slid the ring on her finger and kissed her hand. "A diamond, the toughest and most precious gem on earth, like you. An amber stone match your pretty eyes, and a ruby to match the fire inside of you."

"It's perfect," she said.

They kissed heatedly, momentarily forgetting the others in the room.

"Happy Christmas," he whispered.


	23. Chapter 23

When the grandfather clock chimed five times, Hermione slapped her forehead with her palm.

"I almost forgot about The Weasleys!" she said.

"No worries, love. We can still go, we've got loads of time before the thing tonight," Harry said.

"What thing?" Grace asked.

"I'm basically forced to go to this absurd Christmas gala at the Ministry every year. But this year, it might not be so bad, I've got a smashing party companion," he said and gave Hermione a quick hug.

They thanked Ian and Grace for a wonderful day and braced themselves for the controlled chaos that would be The Burrow. Hermione hooked her arm in Harry's and they disappeared with a pop. Crooks meowed softly at their sudden departure and pawed at Grace's leg. She picked up the cat and cuddled with him.

"Don't worry, she'll come back for you," she assured the cat.

He butted her chin with his head and jumped from her arms, making his way toward the scattered pile of building blocks.

At the Weasleys, everyone was heartily eating when the sound of Apparation was heard outside. Arthur went to the door to greet the visitors.

"It's great to see you two today!" he called out and welcomed them inside.

Everyone paused from their meals wish them a Happy Christmas. Molly gave them a glass of Weasley Christmas Punch, a libation of her own creation, and peered knowingly at them.

"All right, let's see it," she demanded.

"See what?" Hermione asked.

"The ring of course," Molly replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What ring?" Ginny asked. Ron was smirking into his Butterbeer.

"Hermione's engagement ring, obviously," Molly said and looked at the ring when Hermione held her hand up.

"Engagem...a ring?..."

She saw the ring, squealed, and got to her feet quite fast for someone eight months along in pregnancy.

"Careful love," Wayne said and steadied her.

She cooed over the ring, congratulated them both with a hug, and started talking about wedding gowns.

"Whoa Gin, he just asked a couple of hours ago. I won't have free weekends to do any real wedding planning until the end of January," Hermione said.

"Do you have a new schedule at work?" Molly asked.

Hermione chuckled. "My ten days of community service starts tomorrow. Those who are gainfully employed get to serve their days on the weekends."

"What did you get?" Percy asked, surprised that he didn't know.

"Custodial work at St. Mungo's."

"Okaaaay...so do you have a date that you're thinking about?" Ginny asked calmly, but mentally jumping up and down in absolute joy for her friends.

"Well, we were thinking about Easter weekend," Harry said.

"So soon?" Molly asked.

"Honestly, we've thought of just going and eloping Monday morning, but-" Hermione started.

_"What?"_ Ginny and Molly gasped.

"-but my mum would never forgive me for cheating her out of helping to plan my wedding," she finished dramatically.

"Hey, aren't you certified or something like that to perform magical weddings?" Harry asked Arthur.

"That would be wonderful!" Molly gushed before Arthur could answer. "You two are practically family anyway, so it would be like-"

She stopped when she saw Harry and Hermione having an unspoken conversation.

"We would be honored for Arthur to wed us," Hermione said.

"Really, who else could it be?" Harry stated, hoping no one brought up Kingsley. He was still having a hard time getting over his grudge against him for sentencing Hermione to jail.

Ginny was elated for her friend. _They deserve this so much! It's so romantic! They're such a perfect couple; it's almost like a fairy tale! This is going to be the wedding of the year…no wait...the decade! Look at them; they're such an adorable couple!_

They scooted their chairs closer together to make it easier to be in constant physical contact with each other in small but significant ways. Hermione's hand rarely left Harry's thigh, he would briefly rub her back, she would lean close to him for a quick hug, he would place quick kiss on her shoulder. They had another drink, a slice of cake, and some biscuits before Harry stood and announced that they had to go.

"It won't be so bad this year, look at my date."

"Infinitely better than your date last year," Arthur said pointedly.

They went back to her flat, and then Harry went to the Grangers to fetch Crooks. He returned to find Hermione in the shower. He closed the bedroom door to keep the cat out and joined her in the shower. His hands replaced hers to lather her body.

"I've wanted you since you put that ring on your finger," he said, embracing her from behind, suckling on her neck. "I want to shout _mine-mine-mine_ to the heavens each time I pound into you."

He felt her shudder. "Pound?" she asked, her voice cracking at the end.

He nodded and pressed his hips against her arse. "Mmm-hmm. _Pound_."

"Then what are you waiting for?" she whispered.

He turned off the shower and they stepped out, hurrying toward the bed, not caring about their wet bodies and hair or the water dripping a path to the bed. He knelt before her and without hesitation and buried his face between her legs. She squealed and had to hold on to the bedpost when he placed her right leg leg over his shoulder to get better access to relentlessly bring her to a quick, powerful climax.

"Bend over the bed, love," he urged and she happily complied.

On her stomach, resting on her elbows, Harry entered her in a single, powerful thrust that dislodged her from her elbows.

_"Yess,"_ she hissed as he pounded into her as promised, chanting "mine!" with each thrust.

He bent over her, suckling on her neck as his hips rolled, his loins slapping steadily against hers. He felt ready to come, but he wanted to watch her as she watched his cock, and he wanted to see her face when she came. She was one of those who liked to watch cocks in action, as she once said. She bit her lip as he slowly stroked himself.

"Tell me you love this," he said, slapping his cock against her wet, quivering quim.

Her eyes darkened with desire, she sat up and brought his face closer to mutter in his ear. "_I love this, say it's mine, say your cock is mine,"_ she breathed.

He pulled her to the edge of the bed and unceremoniously entered her again with a growl, pounding into her once more. She was looking down where their bodies met, her impassioned cries almost as sobs as he incessantly plunged and drove into her.

_"Fuck yes, it's yours!"_ he called out, reveling in the power and passion he was feeling.

"_Harder, I'm coming!"_ she gasped.

He felt his climax building as well, so he took hold of her arse and pulled her into each thrust, slapping hard and fast against her. She stiffened and shrieked as she came, rolling her hips decadently with his, riding out her climax, her nails digging into his back.

"_Fuck!_" he shouted, arching his back as his climax hit. "_So good!"_ he gasped, slowly pumping until he fell flaccid, caressing and kissing her body while telling her how incredible a lover she was, how good she made him feel, how special she was to him. "I love you so damn much," he said, lying with her on the bed.

He felt her smile on his chest. She was drawing circles on his chest with her finger tips and running her hands through his hair.

"I love you so damn much too," she replied, placed a light kiss on his chest, and sighed in contentment.

"That's what I like to hear," he said.

The next morning, she was loathe to get out of bed. Absolutely loathe. More loathe than she had ever been in her life. This Christmas had been the best of her life, and it was because of the man who was deep in contented sleep next to her. After their most powerful and passionate love-making to date, they almost talked themselves out of going to the Ministry Christmas party...champagne supper...whatever it was. She ended up drinking more than she intended and they didn't leave until after two a.m. All she wanted was to laze about with him, but no, she had to report to St. Mungo's at eight a.m. _On_ _a Saturday, hung over, during the holiday. Shit! It could be worse though, I could have received a longer jail sentence. _She shuddered at the thought of Christmas in jail. She sighed and gently shook his shoulder.

"Love?"

He mumbled something and opened his eyes.

"I have to leave, but I'll make some tea for when you wake up," she said.

He sat up. "Give me two minutes. I'll see you to the hospital," he said groggily.

She was to report to the Head Mediwitch and start her work. The kindly older witch was friendly and seemed sorry that Hermione had to be there.

"Do the crime, do the time," Hermione replied with a shrug, thinking of Belinda's words. _I wonder how she's doing..._

"At least you're in good spirits," the witch said. "Now, I know just where you can start. The patients should be almost finished with breakfast, so you can go about collecting their trays and such."

It took two hours at the least to collect the breakfast trays and rubbish of the entire hospital, then she was entitled a twenty minute break. While she nursed a cup of tea, the kindly Head Mediwitch joined her.

"You do good work," she commented. "I have just the thing for you next, the Little Wizard and Witch Wards."

"The babies?"

"Yes, they can always use an extra hand in there, I assure you. Just tell them that I sent you."

Dirty nappies, soiled blankets and crib sheets, feeding, and organizing paperwork took up the rest of her day in the Little Wizard and Witch Ward. While she was folding the last baby blanket of the wash, she glanced at the clock and saw that her day was almost through.

"Maybe I'll be able to work here again tomorrow," she said to the night shift ward Mediwitch. "Good night."

Harry was waiting for her in the reception foyer. "How was your day, or should I not ask?"

"Not too bad, actually. I did the after-breakfast cleaning and spent the rest of the day in the Little Wizard and Witch ward."

"Nappy duty?"

"Among other things."

"Fancy some supper?"

"Yes, I'm starved."

"Good, there's supper waiting at my house."

"Lead the way then, Mr. Potter."

She accepted another chicken cutlet and sopped the sauce with her bread. Harry seemed to be concentrating on his plate. "You're not tired of this, are you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, this is quite good. You do something different with the chicken every time."

He fell silent and once more and absently tore his bread apart.

"Something wrong?" she asked and gestured for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

"There's something I want to ask-" he said but was interrupted by Ron strolling into the dining room.

He put a magazine on the table next to her arm. "Ginny told me to give you this."

She smiled and picked up the _Magical Bride_ magazine. "I'll have to thank her," she said, thumbing through the pages, and stopped when she glanced at Ron.

"You look nice," she said.

"Always the tone of surprise," he teased.

She rolled her eyes.

"I've got a date. I need to look nice for this one," Ron said.

"Do we know this one?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, Katie Bell, from your office."

Hermione put down the magazine. "You look nice, so you need to be nice too. Katie's the best, she deserves the best."

Harry nodded in agreement.

Ron put his hands up. "Take it easy. I know that, all right?"

"Good. Just so you know, I'll be talking to her Monday morning, and there better be nothing but good things said about you," she said.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes mother," he said and left.

She saw Harry's amused look. "My only excuse is that I'm tired. I don't mean to nag."

"Don't worry about it, he knows. You're a good friend."

"Now, back to what you were trying to talk to me about?" she asked, sipping her tea, again flipping through the bridal catalogue.

"Right," he said, taking a deep breath.


	24. Chapter 24

She took a bite of her pie, chewing and waiting for him to speak, her big brown eyes beckoning him to talk.

"You don't have to give me an answer today, but I was wondering if you would consider...moving here...living here. With me."

She swallowed and took a sip of tea. "That's a big step."

"Well, we've already taken a huge step, so why not take another one? I just thought that since we're together all the time anyway- I mean- when we're not at work, we're together, here or at your place..."

"You're babbling, love," she said. _But it's terribly cute._

"Am I?"

She nodded and decided to tease him a bit to set him at ease. "However, your idea has merit, Mr. Potter."

"Why thank you, Miss Granger."

This was an easy decision for her. "Now, just one question. Should I sell my flat or put out a_ flat to let _advert? Become a landlady or not?"

* * *

On Sunday night, she sat in a bath and washed away the smell of the hospital. Harry was in the lounge, already helping her pack her things for the move. She heard a thump and the sound of breaking glass.

_"It's nothing!"_ was heard.

"Was that the Eiffel Tower snow globe from my desk?" she called out.

_"Um...I can get you another!"_

Tonight Harry would take a dozen or so boxes (of books) back to Grimmauld Place to the room he planned to make into an office for her, as a surprise. She had more books than anything else, so they planned on moving them first. After that, everything else would be a piece of cake, thanks to magic.

**January 11, 2010**

Hermione opened her paper and was interrupted by a knock on her door. It was Percy with a file.

"Good morning. Tea?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you."

She served him a cup first, then herself.

"Quite good cup of tea," he said. "This is for you, Crittendon's trial has been set for next Monday."

She took the file and flipped through it. "Thank goodness, I'm sick of him."

"Is he bothering you?"

"Regrettably, yes."

"That's unfortunate, _for you_. It's more trouble for him."

"At least the whole matter will be over with soon."

He cleared his throat. "Well, I must be going. Thank you for the excellent tea. I'll see you next Monday."

She sipped her tea and perused the front page. Nothing was of interest, not even the article about some witch she had never met who gave her opinion of her and Harry's engagement. She was about to flip to the back and see the advert she submitted to let her flat, but her attention was caught by page two. She saw **"Product Recall"** in a large flashing banner at the top of the page and read the accompanying article.

_Geoffrey Stanwick, Chief Executive Wizard of the Every Witch brand of products, has announced a recall of one the company's line of anti-conception elixirs. _

_"We urge all witches who have used the once-monthly "Not Yet" line of anti-conception elixirs in the past four months to see their healer immediately. It has been discovered that an unintentional addition of a tainted ingredient has rendered the product ineffective, and may cause mild to severe allergic reactions in some witches. We have discontinued the "Not Yet" line of once-monthly elixirs whilst a full investigation is being conducted._

_We wish to fervently assure our customers that the Every Witch brand of products is safe and that we have full confidence in the reliability and effectiveness of our products. We will double our efforts to ensure that this never happens again."_

"And of course that's the one I use," she mumbled and massaged her temples.

"Problems?" Katie asked from the door.

"Yes and no," Hermione said. "Crittendon's trial is next Monday."

"That's good."

Hermione nodded and handed Katie the paper. "Read the paper yet?"

"No, I think my neighbor is taking mine."

"Read page two, at the top."

Katie read the paper and her lips twitched. "Let me guess, you take _Not Yet?_ What an idiotic name."

"Right in one. Looks like I'm going to St. Mungo's."

She put on her cloak and left her office.

"Can I keep the paper?" Katie called after her.

At St. Mungo's, six Hit Wizards were standing outside of the main entrance to stem the tide of reporters clamoring to get inside the hospital. Some of them saw Hermione walking their way and rushed toward her with shouted questions and speculations. She answered "no comment" and shouldered her way through the reporters, wand in hand, wary that Crittendon could be in the crowd. In the lobby, she was met by an orderly.

"Are you here about the recall?" the witch asked.

"Yes," Hermione answered.

The witch gave her an sheet of paper. "Take this paper, fill out the information, and take it to the Third Floor. There's a ward arranged for those coming in about the product recall."

"Thank you for your help."

She took the lift to the Third Floor, Potion and Plant Poisoning, and sighed at the sight of dozens of witches in the waiting area. _There goes a potentially productive morning!_

Harry went to the Hermione's office when he heard of Crittendon's trial date. Katie intercepted him with a look of curious amusement in her eyes.

"She's not here, she went to St. Mungo's," she said.

"Is she sick?"

"Probably not."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

She handed him the paper. Harry read the article and shrugged.

"What does this have to do with-" he said, then stopped talking.

He again saw the _rendered the product ineffective _line of the article and forgot how to breath.

"All right there Harry?" Katie asked, gently nudging his arm. _I don't want to startle him, he already looks like he's about to have some kind of fit!_

He let out the breath he was holding and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm fine."

"Are you going to St. Mungo's?" she asked.

"I think I should...you know...just in case."

"Could you bring her handbag? She left in a rush and forgot it."

"Um...sure."

_He's a keeper_, Katie thought as Harry left the office. He didn't appear to think twice about carrying an obviously feminine handbag as he walked through the Ministry.

* * *

The clamoring of the reporters grew louder when Harry Apparated to the scene. _Bloody hell, all the witches that came here had to run this gauntlet! _

Behind him, the sound of Apparition was heard that heralded the arrival of three more witches. He drew his wand and pointed it at the middle of the crowd of reporters. A harmless charm separated the throng to clear a path, igniting shouts and comments of indignation. Cameras flashed and a piece of balled parchment hit him on the head.

"Ladies," he said with a courtly bow, and waved his hand to usher them forward.

The Hit Wizards opened the doors to let them through and resumed their positions. He followed the witches to the Third Floor, making polite conversation until he was stopped by an orderly at the door to the ward.

"I'm sorry, but only witches affected by the recall are to be allowed in. It's because there's so many, you see? There's just barely enough room for them. Besides, some of them are overwrought, and we don't want to add overwrought husbands and beaus to the mix. Down the hall there, to the left, there's a room for the wizards."

All activity stopped and the room grew quiet when he entered.

"Nice handbag, Potter," a voice called out.

The noise and activity resumed. Dozens of wizards were sitting or pacing, chewing their nails while staring blankly at some point on the floor or wall, or talking frantically into their mobiles.

"So you say that you've had an increased appetite and bouts of nausea?" the healer asked. "Anything else out of the ordinary relating to your health?"

"No, only eating more and nausea," Hermione said, tapping her foot and resisting the urge to chew on her nails.

A Mediwitch brought in a clipboard, smiled warmly at her, and gave it to the Healer.

"You have a Healer of record already, that's good. Hmm...your blood tests came back and there appears to be no negative effects from the elixir. Now, remain still so that I can perform a pregnancy detection charm. It'll only take seconds and you won't feel a thing," he said.

With a medical wand, he made slow rotations above her stomach, then gently swished and flicked. Her abdomen glowed briefly and he made notes on the clipboard. "I don't know whether to tell you congratulations or not, but you're approximately six weeks pregnant, give or take a few days," he said.

"Th-that's over a month!" she gasped, covering her face in horror. _I was pregnant in jail! _

The healer was patting her knee. "Do you need anything, Miss Granger? We have excellent counselors to help deal-"

She shook her head. "I'm just overwhelmed right now. Give me a moment."

He nodded in understanding and gave her a cup of water. All those years ago in Healer training, he never dreamed he'd be doing this. So many pregnant witches at one time! Hermione was his twenty-fourth patient that day, and he was only one of four Healers there! The door opened and her Healer came in.

"Luke Fletcher," he said, shaking hands with the emergency Healer.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?" he asked, looking at her chart. "Is it alright to say good morning?"

"At least it's not giant, rabid rabbits that brought me here this time," she said.

"How are you, really?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Now I get to plan for a baby along with my wedding. I could have a fit, but what good would that do? The only thing I'm appalled about is the fact that I was pregnant in jail."

He chuckled. "You're doing better than many of the blokes in the waiting room. Many vials of calming draft have been used this morning."

She left her healer with informative pamphlets, a prenatal script for the chemist, and an appointment reminder for next month. She heard the talk from the waiting room and walked toward the room. She had no idea if Harry was in the room, and if he was there, what would he say? She slowed when she felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and she realized her knees were shaking. She stopped and leaned against the wall.

Harry looked at his watch again. _Just how many are there? Has she even been seen yet?_ He looked out of the room, saw her leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, and took off at a run. She heard the sound of trainers squeak against the floor and opened her eyes.

"Love?" he asked.

She opened her eyes and walked into his arms.

Back in her office, she sank into her chair with a sigh. Harry watched her carefully, not knowing what to say. She had only said, "I need to get back to work" and they left the hospital earlier. _Is she in shock?_

"I was pregnant in jail," she said softly.

"What?" he asked.

"Harry, I'm six weeks along. I was pregnant in jail."

She dropped her hand to her stomach in a protective gesture. He rose from his seat, knelt next to her, and hugged her, resting his head on her stomach.

"I love you, and I already love the little wizard or witch in here," he said against her stomach.

She could no longer hold back any of the emotion she was feeling. He held her as she cried.

**Grimmauld Place, suppertime**

She hung up the telephone. "Mum said she's setting two extra places at the table."

"Will they be angry?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Surprised maybe, but not angry. This isn't a mistake, it's a baby."

He poured her a cup of pumpkin juice. She shook her head and pushed it away. "I think it's because of the pregnancy, but the smell of pumpkin juice makes me sick. Milk too, but that's why I have the prenatal draft, for nutritional needs."

He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I'll get the car warmed up."

She sighed. Apparating and Port Keys were no longer permitted during the course of the pregnancy. Harry returned with Ron right behind him. He went straight for her and engulfed her in a hug.

"I heard from Katie. Congratulations," he said. "I know you weren't expecting this, but you're going to be a smashing mum."

Hermione was touched. Ron did have his moments.

"Thanks Ron," she said and wiped a tear that fell. _God, am I going to be so weepy for the next eight months?_

He handed her an apple from the table and chucked Harry on the arm before going upstairs.

Harry stopped the car in front of the Granger flat. The front curtain opened and the front stoop light came on.

"Bloody awful weather," Harry said.

"Just when we decide to get out in it, gale force winds and freezing rain appear," she commented.

Halfway to the door, she tripped and fell, and the umbrella Harry was holding was blown inside out. She also noted that the Impervious charm she applied before she got out of the car had faded. Harry helped her to her feet and Ian opened the front door.

"Good lord, you two got out in this?" he said.

Hermione shivered and dripped on the foyer floor. Harry cast warming charms on her, and Grace brought a towel.

"Luke said my magic would be off," she said and sneezed.

"_A little off?_ That was a third year Impervious charm," Harry said.

"You couldn't just magic yourself here like you always do?" Grace asked.

Hermione shook her head and sneezed again. Harry gave her a handkerchief. "I dropped my apple," she groused.

When they were settled in front of the fireplace, Grace brought in tea.

"Now, what brings you two out in this horrid weather?" Ian asked.

"Oh, just some news I learned this morning," Hermione said. "Crittendon's trial starts Monday."

She took Harry's hand, took a deep breath, and spoke. "I also learned this morning that I'm pregnant. Come August, you'll be grandparents."


	25. Chapter 25

_"Pregnant?_ Six weeks? Are you sure?" Grace asked, quickly moving to sit next to her daughter. Ian was silent, regarding the couple carefully.

Hermione nodded. "Confirmed this morning."

"We had planned to wait until after we married," Harry said and Hermione nodded in agreement. "We wanted to avoid the whole _cart before the horse_ speech."

"But if there's anything I've learned in my life, it's that sometimes life doesn't go as planned," Hermione said and took the morning's paper from her satchel and gave it to them. "Note the alarming yet interesting article, top of page two."

They read the bit of news and Grace chortled. "Let me guess, you take this..._Not Yet_ stuff? What an absurd name."

"So, should we be congratulating you? How do you feel about it?" Ian asked.

"Appalled, to be honest." She squeezed Harry's hand, still clutched in hers. "Now I find that I'm happy about it. I don't have to be insanely jealous of Ginny anymore, and I get another exciting new adventure. I was starting to wonder if this would ever happen for me. Love, marriage, kids, and finally it's happening."

They looked at Harry. "I feel like the luckiest man in the world. All my dreams are coming true, a family of my own, all because of your daughter."

"That's what we like to hear," Ian said and shook Harry's hand. "Congratulations you two."

"My sweet girl! Making me a grandmother!" Grace exclaimed and hugged her daughter.

"It's a good thing you moved in with Harry, you've got someone to look after you," Ian said.

Over breakfast, they chuckled over the front page headlines of _The Daily Prophet._

**"I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT"**

**That was the quote of Henry McTavish, Sr. Healer-In-Charge of St. Mungo's Hospital. According to historical records researched by this very paper, yesterday's confirmed total of 157 expectant witches stands as the largest baby boom in Magical Britain history. **

**"It even surpasses the increased pregnancy numbers in Russia after the death of Rasputin!" one excited researcher exclaimed.**

Hermione set the paper down. "Someone is going really wonky with their cause and effect scenarios. Honestly, drawing a parallel between Rasputin and a faulty potion formula? I'd like to talk to this researcher," she said disdainfully.

"I hope this kid gets your smarts," he said and fed her another apple slice.

**Even more amazing, that was only the first day count. St. Mungo's expects more witches to respond today and in the coming days, based on sales estimates of the faulty **_**Not Yet**_** line of anti-conception elixirs.**

**In response to the increased obstetrical requirement, many Healers will be temporarily transferred to the expanded and renamed Witch Care Annex, in addition to an expanded Little Wizard and Witch Annex, which is already in construction. Accelerated training of both Healers and Medi-witches has been initiated to deal with the increased staffing necessity. Geoffrey Stanwick, CEW of Every Witch Corporation, has pledged that the corporation will take on the bulk of the cost of hospital expansion, and will also contribute to the cost of care for witches affected by the faulty elixir. **

**"This unexpected spike in pregnancies also offers unexpected but welcome boons, both socially and economically," says Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt. "The birth rate for our society, until now, has been stagnant. Stagnancy in any society leads to decline, as history as shown us time and time again. Think of how many of our young started Hogwarts this term, and then think of how many will start 11 years from now. The totals will be astounding. Think of the increased need for services, education, and commerce, and the jobs that will result from this increased need. We may just require another Diagon Alley."**

**Among the notable witches seen entering St. Mungo's yesterday were: **_**Susan Bones**_**, celebrated Botanist hailing from the prestigious Bones family; **_**Rachel "Blue Streak" Standish**_**, star Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies; **_**Hermione Granger**_**, Office of Magical Law Advocate, and Order of Merlin heroine of the Voldemort War (who is reportedly carrying the child of Harry Potter); and **_**Lisa Turpin-Towers**_**, who left modeling for a Runes Professorship at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft.**

**"What an extraordinary generation this is going to be," said Minerva McGonagall, current Headmistress of Hogwarts.**

**We at **_**The Daily Prophet**_** certainly agree with that assumption. There will be more on the story as it develops. **

"This is ridiculous, I can't read anymore. I have to get to work, the trial is six days from now," Hermione said.

"You know you're really somebody when they italicize your name in the paper," he teased.

Clarice met her at the Law Office doors with a handful of letters. "You've been getting so many letters!"

"I can imagine," she replied.

"Congratulations, really," Clarice said.

"Thanks, that's sweet."

Her mobile rang from her handbag, the ring tone she assigned to Ginny.

"What's that music?" Clarice asked.

"Hot Stuff," Hermione replied and went to her office.

_"What's hot stuff? And good morning, by the way. How are you? Any morning sickness?"_

"I think I've been lucky on that front, no real morning sickness as of yet."

_"Lucky hag! I threw my guts up! If I could walk, I'd come and see you. Wayne has me on bed rest, this baby is due any day."_

"Well, the healer knows best, and that healer happens to be your darling husband. No worries, I'll come and see you."

_"Great! I need to see someone besides mum. She's driving me batty, acting like this is the first baby I've ever had. Speaking of which, have you told your parents yet?" _

"Yes, last night. They were surprised at first, but they're happy for me and Harry."

_"You want to know what mum said about all these pregnancies? She said it was a fiasco and an irresponsible out-of-wedlock generation."_

Indignant, Hermione was silent and tight-lipped on the other end.

_"Hermione? Are you still there? Hello?"_

"Yes."

_"Maybe I shouldn't have said that."_

"Don't worry about it, Gin. Your mum's outspoken, I know that. She just never better say that around me or Harry, we're kind of emotional about the whole thing right now. We didn't plan for things to happen this way, but it did and we're dealing with it the best we can. In fact, we're thinking about moving up the wedding date. I don't fancy wearing a maternity gown in my wedding pictures."

_"You're too nice. Must go, Wayne's back. And for the record, I can't wait to see if you're this serene eight months from now."_

"Serene my arse," she said to an empty room.

When she met Harry for lunch, she knew that they were the topic of the hushed chat around the canteen.

"Well, you are reportedly carrying my child," he said in mocking haughtiness, quoting the paper.

"."

"How are things around the office?" he asked.

"I've received loads of letters and a call from Ginny. We're not visiting Molly anytime soon."

"Are you serious or is this a moody pregnant thing?"

"Both. Ginny said Molly read the paper and called the whole thing a fiasco and an irresponsible _out-of-wedlock_ generation."

"First off, my child is not a fiasco. Secondly, I'm sure none of you who bought that elixir planned this. That's insulting to all the witches, a lot of who we know, who are now facing unplanned motherhood. For her to call _you_ of all people irresponsible is senseless. She needs to keep her opinions to herself and not sound like some tabloid. You know how she is, there's no telling who might be standing there to hear it."

The canteen erupted in applause.

**January 13, breakfast**

"Look at this!" Hermione said, pointing at a spot on the newspaper. The bottom left of the front page had a blinking box entitled:

**St. Mungo's Pregnancy Tally**

**Day 1: 157 **

**Day 2: 100**

"This sounds like wagering at the races or something," Harry said. "Only _The Daily Prophet_ is being so..."

"Crass? Tacky?" she offered.

"Skeeterish," he said.

"That too."

At lunch, Harry's mobile rang. Hermione shook her head at the "_Doctor, Doctor_" ring tone.

"Harry here."

A smile graced his face.

"Hey, that's great! I'll let her know!"

He closed the mobile and grinned at her. "Ginny's in labor, it started this morning. I'm going there now."

"Damn it, I can't. I'm going over my case brief with Allbright."

He rose and pecked her on the cheek. "I'm sure she'll understand."

"Give her my best."

Late that afternoon, a crowd of Ginny's family and friends stood at the nursery window and admired a five hour-old baby girl. Wayne was behind the glass, cuddling her close, proudly displaying the sleeping baby. Harry drew Hermione into an embrace.

"What a pretty baby," Hermione said.

"Just think, months from now, people will be standing here cooing at our baby," he said.

"_Our baby_, that's a nice thought," she said, snuggling closer to him.

Wayne came closer to the window and stood in front of Hermione. He pointed to the baby and mouthed _Hermione_.

"That's sweet," Molly commented.

Harry and Hermione looked pointedly at each other. Just days ago weren't they part of an irresponsible fiasco? Seconds later, everyone looked curiously at the famous couple, where Harry was talking to her in soothing tones while she wiped tears from her face.

"Not this weepy shite again," she said, "that poor, innocent child has to go around introducing herself as _Hermione Hopkins_."

Wayne was asking "Is she all right?" through the glass.

Hermione had her first fainting episode on the evening of January 15th, at her parent's flat after supper. She was helping her mum in the kitchen when the sound of breaking glass was heard.

"Ian, Harry!" Grace shouted from the kitchen. Both hurried in at the panicked sound of her voice.

"She just fainted with no warning while we were talking!" Grace exclaimed, holding Hermione's cut, bleeding arm above some broken glass.

Harry took her in his arms and brought her to the lounge. "I'm going to try and find her Healer and bring him here."

Ian took her pulse while Grace moved the hair from her peacefully sleeping face, and held a cloth on the cut to stave off the blood coming from her arm. Twenty minutes later, Harry and Luke Fletcher appeared in the foyer.

"In here," Ian called out.

"May I?" Luke asked, gesturing at a chair.

"Of course," Ian said and brought a chair next to the couch. Luke sat and began an examination, starting with healing the cuts on her arm. After a few minutes, he sat back and patted his patient's hand.

"To be on the safe side, I'd feel better to have her in hospital. She's in no danger, but her blood pressure is a tick high. I'd also like to run a couple of tests, because I'm fairly certain the fainting episode was brought on by a nutritional deficiency or dehydration."

Hermione woke to find herself in a fairly comfortable bed in a pleasant looking room with five other beds. One of the beds was occupied by a sleeping woman. She sat up, but lay down again just as quickly due to dizziness. From the corridor, Harry was talking with someone, who nodded when he saw Hermione awake. Harry shook the man's hand and went to her bedside.

"How are you feeling? You gave us a scare," he asked, brushing hair from her forehead.

"Dizzy and tired. Is this St. Mungo's? It looks too nice to be St. Mungo's, it's actually pleasant."

"It is. It's part of the Witch Annex expansion. Remodeled rooms to help the incoming number of witches feel more comfortable," he said.

Healer Fletcher walked in with a clipboard. "We really are going to name a ward after you. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Tired mainly."

"Your blood tests came back. You're slightly dehydrated and bit anemic, hence the fainting spell. It's an easy fix. I'll adjust your prenatal script, but you need to stay hydrated."

"But-" she started.

Luke held up his hand. "I know, you think you've been drinking plenty. However, your body says different. You should drink even if you don't feel thirsty. The further along you get, the more important it becomes. The fetus will require it."

Over the course of the weekend, Harry brought the telly, food, and a stack of books to their room so she could stay in bed entertained and fed. She admitted that it was kind of nice to be pampered, and Harry was more than happy to lay with her in bed all weekend.

"I know you're not one for pampering, but you need rest for the trial. It's bound to be stressful."

"I was medically excused from community service this weekend as well, but I'll have to make it up. As for the trial, I just want the whole thing over with."

"I hope that piece of rat shit goes away for a good, long while."

She nodded. "Allbright's confident about that."

Monday morning, Allbright exuded calm, quiet confidence that years of successful law practice brought. "I want to see this to its conclusion," he said.

The pending trial even took up a small part of the front page.

**Granger-Crittendon Trial Today**

**How will the wheels of justice turn today? In a trial that is expected to last most of the day, Milton Crittendon, former reporter for ****Wizarding World Weekly****, will stand trial before the Wizengamot for charges of stalking and libel. For those who aren't familiar with the events that led up to this point, here is a brief synopsis:**

**On November 27, 2009, Milton Crittendon and Hermione Granger, war heroine and Department of Magical Law Enforcement Legal Advocate, were involved in an altercation in Diagon Alley and both were charged with public dueling, disturbing the peace, and assault. On December 10, 2009, both stood trial and were found guilty of all charges, and were sentenced to seven days incarceration to be followed by ten days of community service.**

**Master Advocate Wilford Allbright, who previously served as Miss Granger's defense advocate, will once again stand before with Wizengamot on her behalf, this time as a prosecutor. "I am constrained from discussing the particulars of the case; however, I am confident of justice being served today on my client's behalf." **

Clarice, whose indignation at Hermione's sentencing rivaled only Harry's, worked with him at Hermione's first trial, so Allbright decided to have her assist him at Crittendon's trial. "I want to see justice done, for her sake," Clarice said.


	26. Chapter 26

Allbright, Hermione, and Clarice made their way to Courtroom Number 7.

"Lucky number seven," Hermione said.

"We can hope," Clarice said.

He stopped in the corridor and spoke. "I'm going to impart a bit of old codger knowledge upon the two of you, to think about as the trial progresses. It has saved me much stress over the years," he said.

The two looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

"There is no luck in the law. There is only what is, and what is not. Here is the law, here is the person, and this is what the law says must happen to the person. It's simple once you think about it like that. As for hope, you can hope for the best, but only if you _do_ your best. Now come along, we're almost there."

In the courtroom, Hermione saw a dozen people in the gallery. A dozen more were in the witness seats to wait for their turn to testify. To her surprise, her mother was there with Harry! She glanced at the cock on the wall and saw that there was ten minutes until the start of the trial. It would give her enough time to find out what in the world her mother was doing there.

"How are you?" Harry asked, giving her a quick kiss. "And before you ask, I got special permission for her to be here. Kingsley's trying to get back in my good books, and since it's not really a dangerous situation, he agreed that your mum could be here for moral support."

"This is certainly a majestic looking sort of place, so much different from our drab courts," Grace said.

The Wizengamot started filing in.

"I'm glad you're here. Must go, time to put this jerk away," Hermione said, giving her mum a hug.

"Minister, Interrogators, and Wizengamot members, I will begin with the allegations of libel by presenting evidence and testimony to support the charge. I offer these twelve newspaper and periodical articles written by Mr. Crittendon regarding Miss Granger, for you to see the spurious nature of the work. "

A clerk took the papers from Clarice.

"I now call the first witness for testimony, Gilbert Fortney, Editor-In-Chief of Wizarding World Weekly."

Mr. Fortney stood before the witness chair, affirmed a vow to tell the truth, and took a seat.

"Master Fortney, how long have you been the Editor-In-Chief of Wizarding World Weekly?" Allbright asked.

"For 24 years, sir."

"Please, tell us a bit about Wizarding World Weekly."

"Certainly. Our newspaper is one of the oldest Wizarding publications for news on the planet. We are published in 23 countries, tailored for that country's language and culture of course. We practice serious, factual journalism; not the gossipy tripe, or tabloids, which have somehow managed to seep into the field of respectable journalism. All employees are informed of this upon their hiring."

"All employees? Mr. Crittendon included?" Allbright asked.

"Yes sir, _all_ employees."

"How long was Mr. Crittendon employed with your paper?"

"For 2 years."

"Can you give this court an idea of his performance while at your paper?"

"Over the course of his employment, he was warned four times about submitting sensationalistic, factually questionable stories to his editor, and that two of the articles could be viewed as libelous. We take that quite seriously, and Mr. Crittendon even signed a written reprimand after the fourth warning. He was suspended from our paper upon his arrest, and ultimately terminated from employment when we received word of the libel charge."

Allbright held up three letters. "I offer the court a copy of the reprimand, and letters written by Mr. Crittendon, threatening Master Fortney and the Current Events editor at the paper. What is interesting to note is that these letters were penned whilst he was incarcerated."

A clerk took the documents from Clarice.

"That is all I have for this witness."

"Very well. The defense advocate may now question the witness."

The defense advocate asked a few perfunctory questions and took a seat once more. He knew his case was a lost one, but his client was entitled to a defense, no matter how hopeless it seemed. Milton admitted his guilt while preparing for the case, had no remorse for his actions, and was pleased to have caused as much trouble as he could for Hermione.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Fortney. There will be a ten-minute recess," Kingsley said.

Over the course of the next two hours, twelve tabloids admitted to printing the articles submitted by Crittendon. The Editor-In-Chief of _The Witch's Brew_ was called to testify.

"Sir, I assume that you have seen the article in question that your newspaper printed?"

"No, I have not."

Allbright was incredulous. He was surprised, and that didn't happen often. "Pardon me? You haven't? As the editor in charge of a paper, you're not aware of what's being printed under your own roof? Then you're not aware of the libelous nature of the article?"

"I wouldn't exactly say libel-"

"Sir, I will have the clerk read the article word for word, then you can answer whether or not it classifies as libel."

As the clerk read the article, the man was squirming in his seat so much one would think someone had put itching powder in his shorts. Before Allbright spoke, an Interrogator spoke to the editor.

"Sir, I'm not a historian, a psychiatrist, nor am I a journalist, but I can recognize a fabricated story when I hear one. And to think, the clerk has eleven more articles such as this as evidence!"

"Madame Interrogator, if it pleases the Wizengamot, I intend for the clerk to read the rest of the articles. I believe that it more than satisfies the legal requirements for a libel charge to stand."

Crittendon merely shrugged and lounged in his chair.

Allbright spoke again. "Sir, do you realize that you can be charged as an accessory to the crime? For willingly defaming the good name of a respected, upstanding witch in our society?"

The editor spoke. "Sir, we have a right to free speech and to pursue _journalistic creativity_. If we have inadvertently caused Miss Granger any undue distress, we will print a correction to rectify any inaccurate information our paper has printed."

"That's very noble, I'm sure. Just one last question, a trifle really. Are the _journalists,_" he said dryly, "salaried?"

The editor cleared his throat. "To protect the bottom line of the paper and keep costs at a minimum, we have no salaried employees. They are paid for each article submitted."

"Hm, I see. I have no more questions for this witness."

Kingsley rose from his chair and spoke. "There will be an hour recess for lunch. We will resume at ten minutes past noon."

Hermione ate her sandwich and fruit in record time and gulped down a second glass of orange juice. She looked through the glass of the cooler to see what else was available.

"I remember when my wife was pregnant. By her second trimester, she ate more than the entire family combined," Allbright said.

"I can see that it's based on common law," Grace said of the trial so far, "but the way you do it here seems simple. No frills...straight-forward, I should say."

"We're fortunate in this case, our argument is practically irrefutable. If only more cases were like that," Allbright said.

The trial resumed and Allbright addressed the Wizengamot again. "I wish to address the charge of criminal stalking, which our law defines as to persistently follow a person with threatening words and/or actions, no matter the motive. We will present witness testimony that will show that Mr. Crittendon's behavior falls under the legal definition of criminal stalking."

"Very well, Master Allbright. Present your witnesses."

Allbright called Katie, Harry, Gail (a waitress from The Leaky Cauldron,) and the manager from Flourish and Blotts. After the defense advocate question the bookstore manager, Crittendon rose and began to talk but was quieted by the defense advocate.

"Minister, interrogators, and Wizengamot members, my client apologizes to the court for the interruption, but he wishes to...discuss a crucial point of law. I humbly ask for a twenty minute recess to consult with my client."

"Granted. Twenty minutes and not one second longer, Mr. Brandt."

"What's going on?" Hermione asked quietly.

"I'm not sure, this doesn't happen often, or it could be a stalling tactic," Allbright said.

When only ten minutes of hurried discussion had passed, Mr. Brandt cleared his throat to address the court. "My client wishes to ask for a summary judgment at this time."

Allbright and Hermione looked at each other in surprise.

"Is your client certain of this? Have you made him aware that he waives the right to present evidence and witness testimony on his own behalf? If the Wizengamot agrees to render a summary judgment, the only thing the defense can present is a closing statement," Kingsley said.

"My client understands."

"Very well. I now call for a majority vote on the matter of rendering a summary judgment against Mr. Crittendon. May I have the votes in the affirmative?"

An overwhelming majority raised their hands.

"All for no summary judgment?"

The minority raised their hands.

"Mr. Weasley, note the date, time, and decision of the Wizengamot voting in the affirmative for summary judgment. Mr. Brandt, you may make your closing statement."

Mr. Brandt slowly cleared his throat again, as if he were going to present something momentous to the proceeding.

"We refute the charge of libel by stating that Mr. Crittendon simply wrote materiel that he believed to be factual-"

An incredulous snort was heard from the witness gallery.

"-and that Miss Granger's hurt feelings cannot be regarded as a criminal offense. Additionally, Mr. Crittendon's right to free speech and to earn a living cannot be included in the charge."

"_Unbelievable_," Hermione said under her breath.

"As for the stalking charge, my client offers that he was distraught from his arrest and incarceration and was not thinking clearly as he traveled from his home to various locations in and about London. In the course of seeking employment, Mr. Crittendon cannot be blamed for the fact that Miss Granger just happened to be in the same vicinity as he. We ask the Wizengamot to dismiss all charges."

Hermione was flabbergasted. Never would she make such an asinine, nonsensical argument for a client.

"Master Allbright, you may make your closing statement."

Allbright patted Hermione's shoulder and rose. "I wish to say to this august body that in all of my years in the legal profession, I have never heard such an absurd argument as the one we've just heard. I agree that Mr. Crittendon has the right to employment and free speech; in fact, my record shows me as an emphatic defender of free speech. However, that right is not absolute, and must be tempered with common sense and responsibility, the same with any other right.

As the saying goes, one may not shout _fire_ in a crowded theatrewhen there is no fire_,_ and Mr. Crittendon's right to employment does not include violating the rights of another. I offer that my client too, was distraught over her arrest and incarceration, as any decent, upstanding citizen would be. However, she had no thoughts of following Milton Crittendon everywhere he went, happily subjecting him to obscene, mean-spirited, threatening language and behavior on a daily basis. We ask the Wizengamot to find Milton Crittendon guilty of the charges of libel and stalking."

Crittendon looked much less defiant while Kingsley called a judgment vote.

"All those in favor of guilt on the charge of libel?"

Forty of the fifty members raised their hands.

"All those in favor of innocence of the charge of libel?"

Two raised their hands.

"Undecided?"

The remaining members raised their hands.

"All those in favor of guilt on the charge of criminal stalking?"

All fifty members raised their hands.

"Very well. Milton Crittendon, this court has rendered a summary judgment of guilt on the charges of libel and criminal stalking. It is obvious that the previous seven days of incarceration made no impression upon you, so we can only hope that a seven _month_ sentence, followed by a seven more months of supervised probation will help you realize the error of your ways."

Crittendon's face paled and Hermione shuddered herself. _Seven months, God help him._

"The sentence is to be carried out immediately. This trial is concluded."

Hermione was startled by Allbright patting her shoulder. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

She shook her head and shook his hand. "Thank you for your services, sir."

"Here comes your fiancée now. Go and get a good supper, you look as if you need it. Clarice will help me wrap up the administrative odds and ends."

At their favorite steakhouse, Harry and Grace talked about decorating the nursery at Grimmauld Place while Hermione sat quietly staring at a napkin ring. She realized Harry was waving his hand in front of her face.

"Love? Did you hear me?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you want the strawberry chocolate cheesecake or something else?" he asked.

"The cheesecake is fine."

"Are you all right? You're awful quiet for someone who just won a court case," Grace said.

"I was just thinking about Crittendon."

Harry patted her hand. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. He's in jail now."

"For seven months. _Seven months_. I was only in jail for seven days, but it was the worst seven days of my life."

"Pumpkin, what else did you expect? From what I saw, the prat was defiant and unrepentant about his actions...at least until the sentence was rendered. There's a reason why we have courts and jails, to protect innocent people from criminals."

"That's what he is, a criminal," Harry said. "He knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he chose to keep doing it, even after being in jail! No one has the right to do what he did, and there's no telling what he would have done next. Kingsley was right, he has seven months to think about what he's done, and you don't have to worry about him anymore."

As an advocate, Hermione knew that Harry was right. Crittendon knew what he was doing, and he wasn't sorry for what he'd done, but for getting caught. A server setting a piece of scrumptious strawberry chocolate cheese before her, she hesitated before eating it.

"Is it another smell that turns your stomach?" Grace asked.

"No, it's just that most of my clothes are too tight as it is, and this will just make it worse. And to think, I'm only six weeks along. I'm going to be as big as an elephant come August."

"Well, you just need to go shopping for maternity clothes," Grace said matter-of-factly. "We'll make a day of it Saturday, what do you think? Maternity clothing these days is much more fashionable than it was when you were born, we'll have a smashing time."


	27. Chapter 27

**February 2, 2010**

**The Second Trimester**

Hermione and Harry sat among dozens of other expectant couples in the waiting room of the Witch Care annex. She was scribbling in her pregnancy log. Her healer had recommended that she keep a log of her eating habits, her physical and mental changes, and questions that arose.

"You told me to remind you of forgetting things," Harry said.

"Yes, good catch love," he said, patting his knee and continuing her writing.

According to the calendar, today marked twelve weeks of pregnancy. Her healer still continued blood work, to ensure that there were no negative effects from the tainted elixir, and to make sure Hermione's nutritional needs were met. After the stress of the Crittendon trial, she blossomed, and he fell more in love with her. A Mediwitch opened the doors to the Healer's corridor.

"Miss Granger, come this way, your healer is ready to see you now."

She lay on an examining table while Luke pushed buttons and prepared the ultrasound machine for operation.

"I still think that's it's amazing that you have those here," she said.

Luke chuckled. "Magic is a wonderful tool in medicine, but with this we can see the baby, to see that everything is progressing as it should. As an added plus, the patients are thrilled that they get to actually see their baby before they're even born. Some aspects of Muggle Complimentary Medicine are truly clever. Now, I'll just be applying this gel on your stomach to make it easier for the probe to move about," he said and squirted a bit of the gel. Her stomach twitched at the coldness.

"My apologies, I forgot to warm it a bit," Luke said and pressed the probe on her stomach. "It will take a few moments for the image to focus."

He pressed more buttons and moved the probe around her stomach. "Ah, here we go."

He pointed to a bean-shaped mass on the screen. "There he is...or she. Can't tell that just yet."

"We don't want to know," they both chorused.

"Noted. He...she..._the fetus_, appears to measure in at five and one-half centimeters. Heart development is complete-"

"Already?" Harry asked.

"Yes, already. The arms and legs are moving slightly, and the intestines are developing, and I see facial development as well. When you put all of that together, the fetus is no longer just a lump of cells. It looks like a baby," he said and laid the probe aside. "Would you like a printout of the reading?"

"Yes, please," Harry said.

He pressed buttons and the machine printed out two thermal images. "Careful that you don't touch the picture too much, the oil and temperature from your fingers can affect it. I'll let you dress and we can continue in my office."

They marveled over the pictures, and suddenly he hugged her tightly and started kissing her wherever his lips could touch. "You're wonderful, do you know that? Look at this, look what we made," he said proudly, brandishing his picture.

"It's amazing. Daunting, exciting, and amazing. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that there's a little person growing in here," she said, rubbing the bump protruding from her stomach.

"I don't really think I've been affected by morning sickness, according to my friend Ginny," she explained. "Aversion to smells is one thing, the retching every day is another. It's just been the smells for me." She flipped through the log. "The shortness of breath?"

"Will become more pronounced."

"The absentmindedness?"

"Ah yes, commonly known as pregnancy amnesia. Hormones, concerns of the home and career, and preparing for the baby's arrival- all can contribute to some things escaping your attention."

"_Some things escaping my attention?_ I forgot the name of my boss last week during a department meeting!"

Harry's laugh turned into a cough at her glare. _My next concern should shut him up!_

"I seem to want more sex nowadays, sometimes more than food."

She glanced sideways at Harry. He was blushing, his coloring as red as a strawberry.

"The desire for intercourse will become more pronounced as well. You can thank the hormones for that; however, it can be good for you. Physically, it's better than any draught for relieving stress, and will keep those raging hormones in check. Emotionally, it reinforces the bond you two obviously have, something that you share that has nothing to do with the baby. There's no reason for intimacy and affection to slow because of pregnancy."

She was nodding and scribbling in her book.

_What in the world could she be writing about?_ Harry wondered.

Luke continued. "Of course, the further along you get, you will undoubtedly find that alternative positions will be necessary."

_Why are we sitting here talking about this like we're having tea? _

"Yes, I read about it in a book my friend gave me," she said.

"Your friends are giving you sex books?" Harry asked incredulously.

"_Ginny_- who has been pregnant twice, an expert as far as I'm concerned- gave me a pregnancy book, given to her by her husband who is a _healer_. Seven pages out of four hundred page book gave suggestions on how to make sex more comfortable into the third trimester. So no, no one gave me a sex book. However, you keep this up, and the pictures in the book will be the only sex you see."

Luke's lips twitched and he cleared his throat. She put her journal in her handbag and stood, lips tightly closed, not sparing a glance at Harry.

"Thank you Luke, especially for the pictures."

"Take care, Hermione. Please see the Mediwitch on your way out to schedule your next appointment."

She marched from the office, Harry hurrying to catch up.

While Hermione was visiting her parents and showing off the ultrasound image, Harry was doing the same at the Hopkins house.

"Why didn't Hermione come with you?" Ginny asked.

"I...might have…set her off at the Healer's today."

"You might have?" Ginny asked.

"Okay, _I did_, all right? God, the littlest things set her off!"

"It's only going to get worse," Wayne said.

"Fabulous," Harry said.

"It's not her fault," Ginny said. "You have to realize that. She can't help what's going on with her body. She's happy about the baby, but she's worried about taking proper care of herself, and being careful because of a little life totally dependent on her. She's also concerned about you, Harry, don't forget that."

Wayne agreed. "It's true. We as men cannot begin to imagine what women must be feeling with the knowledge that a life is going to come kicking and wailing out of out their bodies. I'm a healer and I delivered my own babies, and I can't begin to imagine it."

"I could have been more supportive in the Healer's office," Harry said.

"We know how intelligent, rational, and kind Hermione is, but she's no different than any other pregnant woman. The mood swings are normal," Wayne said. "As my Healer professor once said: dealing with the emotions of a pregnant woman is like trying to row a boat in a hurricane."

"You can't," Harry said.

"Precisely," Wayne added.

The next morning, the entire department was summoned for a meeting. Allbright came into the conference room with Gareth Hamilton, one of the senior Advocates.

"I'm pleased to see all of you this morning. The reason for this meeting is distressing, so please bear with me."

He cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

"This weekend it was determined that my wife is in the final stages of Nyland's Syndrome."

The room fell silent and their hearts went out to him. Nyland's Syndrome was the equivalent of the muggle disease Alzheimers, except that Nyland's Syndrome progressed at a much faster pace.

"This morning I tendered my immediate resignation, in order to be with her as much as I can in her final days. I've appointed Gareth Hamilton as my replacement. I know that you'll perform as admirably for him as you have for me. It's been an honor to work with each and every one of you."

He left the room blowing into a handkerchief. Gareth Hamilton broke the silence.

"I know we all have work to do this morning, so I'm holding a department-wide meeting after lunch, just to go over some slight changes here in the department."

Many of those in the room glanced pointedly at each other. Hamilton was a good, capable Advocate. He was the senior Advocate in the Civil Law section, and was touted for his contract and business law expertise. His drawback, as Hermione and many others saw, was that he was a bit of a bureaucrat.

_Allbright must see something in him that we don't. Why do those types always get ahead?_

She had as much tolerance for bureaucrats as she had for...well, you really couldn't compare a bureaucrat to a pedophile. Or a Daily Prophet gossip columnist. Or Draco Malfoy inventing reasons to come to the department to make goo-goo eyes at sweet, lovable Clarice.

_Well, hopefully Hamilton realizes that bureaucracy won't work here. _


End file.
